Delicate
by missparker85
Summary: It's not that we're scared, it's just that it's delicate. -- Damien Rice
1. Chapter 1

_"It's not that we're scared, it's just that it's delicate." Damien Rice_

There were certain things that Kathryn Janeway loathed about her job. Some things were unique to Voyager like replicator rationing, always being low on every supply, and the completely irrational sense of competition between the Beta and Gamma shifts. There were things that came with Starfleet as a whole – time paradoxes, being passed up for an expected promotion, or how crawling through Jefferies tubes was hell on the knees.

Also, she really hated alien implants.

She woke up disoriented with her face pressed into the cold ground. Her body ached like after taking a hard fall and when she pushed her hands into the ground to lift her body, her shoulders didn't cooperate and she was forced to stay down for a bit longer while all the different parts of her body tried to get working at the same speed again.

The longer she was conscious, the more the pain became specific to a single location. It felt tightest at the crown of her head. It was an itching, a burning just beneath her hair.

It was odd that her hair was down, actually, tangled and dirty. She tried moving again and was able to lift an arm and feel her scalp carefully. She expected tenderness, maybe some blood. She clearly had hit her head. But instead, her fingers found something foreign and metallic. It protruded slightly from her head and most definitely didn't belong. When she tried to pry it away, the pain tripled and she yanked her hand away, groaning.

Time to open her eyes.

It was dark and she gave herself a moment to adjust. She was outside – she could hear the sounds ubiquitous to nature no matter what the planet. Insects buzzing, night birds chirping, the wind through the trees. Above her, a canopy of leaves and branches interrupted her limited view of the night sky but even without the trees she doubted she'd be able to see any stars. The only thing in the sky was darkness, an inky blackness that threatened to overwhelm her.

She pushed up again and managed to spend a couple seconds upright before a wave of nausea overtook her and she bent over to empty her stomach. She steadied herself with a hand on a nearby tree trunk and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Lovely.

She tapped at her chest, willing to try communicating even though the odds were most definitely against her. The only thing, however, her hand came into contact with was fabric. Her communications badge was gone and she scanned the ground around her but saw nothing.

She scratched her head careful not to actually touch the device. Her hair seemed even more matted and dirty around the implant. Perhaps there was blood after all. She wished she had some way to see the device. To know what she was dealing with even slightly, but it was hard to think.

Where was Voyager? Where was she? What had happened?

Trying to remember the events that led up to the present seemed like a good way to start. A few images floated to her mind but they were disjointed and she sat down, a few meters away from where she had been sick, and tried to put them into order.

She remembered brushing her teeth – spitting into her sink. That had been this morning, hadn't it? She remembered riding in the turbolift with Chakotay at the start of the shift. She remembered giving her holodeck time to Harry.

Wait. Did she remember that? She could see Harry's face, surprised and pleased, as she turned over the chunk of time.

But why would she give it to Harry of all people? Why would she give it away at all?

She remembered the slice of blue melon she ate for lunch.

She remembered spilling her coffee onto the carpet on the bridge as the ship shuddered.

The ship! They'd been attacked, hadn't they?

She remembers feeling the shaking of the ship and throwing off her covers, barreling out of bed in an effort to get to the bridge hastily.

How could she spill her coffee at the same time she was getting out of bed?

Oh, her head ached. It seemed like every time she had a clear thought, something muddled it up. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head with oxygen.

That was a familiar smell. It smelled like the training ground north of Starfleet Academy where they did the level one phase of wilderness survival and where the three-week piloting crash course location was.

Not that she'd ever taken such an intense piloting course. Had she? What was that smell?

_Oak trees_.

Yes, that was it. Oak trees had a distinctly earthy smell and this place reminded her of it.

But, odd. She hadn't remembered oak trees herself, had she? It was more like she had wanted to remember it, had asked for the information and someone had handed her the answer.

She had to focus. She remembered Harry telling her that they'd lost the aft shields for a moment and then…

_Captain?_

She jumped, on her feet in a second.

"Who's there?" she asked, reaching for the phaser that wasn't at her waist. Still, she groped blindly for a moment before realizing that she wasn't armed and raised her hands to shield her face.

"Captain?" This time she heard the voice outside of her head. It was weak and some distance from her. It was also vaguely familiar. She took another deep breath and forced herself to think.

"Tom?" she called out.

"Over here?" he whimpered. She started moving slowly in the direction of his voice and saw him lying on the ground after several meters.

"Tom," she said again, rushing to his side. "Are you all right?"

"I think my shoulder is dislocated," he said. He was cradling the arm and it did hang eerily from his shoulder, unnaturally. His face was pinched in pain.

"All right," she said, buying time to think. In the darkness it was hard to see him clearly but he seemed just as filthy and disoriented as she was. "Nothing to do but pop it back in."

"No," he said. "It's all right, I'll just…"

"Mr. Paris," she said, her voice soft. "Lie back."

"It's really not that bad," he tried to argue. She touched his good shoulder and held it to the ground.

"This is going to hurt," she warned him. Realizing she was serious about putting his shoulder back, he kept still and set his jaw. She took a deep breath and gave the shoulder a hard shove. He howled but she felt the shoulder go back into the socket with a sickening crunch.

The pain hit her a few seconds later. She was watching him with concern, noting how ashen he'd become when pain blossomed from her own shoulder, like someone had stepped on her shoulder with a sharp heel and ground down with all their weight. She gasped, the pain knocking the wind out of her. She fell to the ground next to him and clutched at the pain, as if she could contain it somehow.

"Captain?"

She heard Tom's voice distantly and in a few moments, the pain lessened and faded.

"What the hell was that?" she gasped, mostly to herself.

"Maybe you tweaked something," he offered.

"It was more like…" She shook her head, disregarding the insane notion. "Do you have any idea where we are?"

"No," he said. "I remember there was weapons fire and we lost the shields and then… here. I could… I could hear you talking about it. Who were you talking to?"

"I wasn't talking to anyone," she snapped, feeling irritable, confused, and scared. "I think the implant is making it difficult to think."

"What implant?" he asked. She realized she hadn't checked him for it.

"Hold still," she ordered and crawled around him. She could see a blinking light, red and covered only slightly by his hair. "I want to get a good look at this."

"At what?" he demanded.

"There's something implanted into our heads. I have it too," she said. It was hard to see in the darkness and small enough so that she knew she'd need a tool of some sort in order to access any information. What she wouldn't give for a bobby pin.

"Someone did this to us," Tom said.

"I suggest we wait for first light before we do anything," she said. "You're going to be in some pain, Tom, you should sleep first."

"Do you really think sleeping is a good idea?" he asked. "I don't know about you but I'm sporting a pretty wicked headache. It could be a concussion."

"Voyager has to be searching for us," she said, trying to sound positive.

"I hope they know where to look," Tom said.

oooo

She didn't mean to fall asleep. Tom had slipped under first. She'd woken him up a few times to make sure he could wake up, but when everything seemed all right, she let him sleep. They'd moved against a large tree trunk for back support but it was hard to move around in such a thick darkness. He'd curled up next to her, his head on his balled up uniform jacket.

Morning had to come soon. It felt like it'd been hours.

"Captain?" Tom's voice roused her from slumber. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He'd sat up and was leaning over her. Behind him, the sky was beginning to lighten. She sat up and noticed he'd shoved his jacket under her head in the night.

"Tom," she muttered. "The sun is rising."

"I think…" He smiled in a nervous way. "I think I know what these implants do."

"You've had one before," she said. The image of him and Harry in the space station prison sprung to mind unprovoked.

"Yeah, but, I think this one does more. It makes it hard to concentrate but… Captain, I could see your dreams," he said. This got her attention. She pushed her hair out of her face. It hung limply – she must be a sight. "You look fine."

"Huh?"

"I can hear your thoughts," Tom said. "I think these implants… I think we're connected."

"Did you give your holodeck time to Harry?" she asked, suddenly.

"Yes," he said.

"And the pilot course? Three weeks?"

"Oak trees," he agreed.

"Oh my god," she said, raising her hand to her mouth. "The attack. You were asleep."

"You spilled your coffee," he said. "It's very disorienting. Whoever did this to us, it must be a way to subdue us."

They sat in silence for a moment trying to process this information.

"Do you think it's odd…"

"That we haven't seen anyone yet?" he finished. "If we're being held captive…"

"Then where are they?" she asked.

"It's like the wilderness survival training," he said. "We just got dumped in the woods."

"The first thing we learned was to look for water and food," she said. "That's what we're going to do."

"At least this way we can communicate without our badges," he said.

"Let's split up then, look for water," she said. "How's the shoulder?"

"Fine," he said. "How's yours?"

A look of understanding crossed her face. She reached out and pinched his arm hard.

"Ow," he said. A second later she felt a stab of pain in her own arm.

"Like a time delay," she said. She pinched herself hard and watched him jump.

"We're going to have to be careful," he said.

"Agreed." They took off in different directions. Her eyes scanned for edible plants and her ears strained for the sound of water moving – a stream or a river. She'd even take a stagnant pond. She tried to keep her spirits up and not dwell on how she knew very little about her ship.

"Do you think we're the only crew members missing?" Tom asked, suddenly beside her.

"I don't know," she said, knowing he brought it up because she'd been thinking about it. "I thought we were splitting up."

"I did walk away from you but then…" Paris shrugged. "Every time I tried to get some distance, I some how circled back to you."

"The implant?" she asked.

"Let's test it out," he said. "We'll face each other and step back together."

"All right," she said. They tried it, taking measured steps back, their eyes locked. It didn't take long for them to feel the resistance and then a jolt of energy that made them hurry back to one another. She reached out and touched his hand and the contact made the pain fade more quickly. "Are you okay?"

"What should we do?" he asked.

What could they do but work within their circumstances and wait?

oooo

Tom found some nuts and there had been a stream about a kilometer away. Now they slept. It was much colder than the previous night and though it made them both mildly uncomfortable, they huddled together in the darkness.

Janeway wasn't sure why it happened, but for some reason Tom was beamed back to the ship before she was. Perhaps it had been easier to get a lock on him – perhaps they only had the energy for one transport at a time, but the pain was agonizing nonetheless. She clutched at her head and screamed.

It must've only been a few seconds but it seemed to take forever. The shock of it kept her whimpering long after she was in sickbay aboard her ship. She couldn't see or hear, couldn't speak. The only thing that existed was the pain. She wished for death and when it came, gave in willingly.

She could hear Tom again. Had he gone with her? It was as if they were standing at either end of a long tunnel. She could hear him from a distance but everything came distorted and with an echo. She could feel that he wasn't happy. That he was tired and frightened. She was these things, too. If she could move, she would go toward him. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him that here had to be better than the pain they had faced before.

The more she thought about him, the more she reached toward him with her mind, the closer he seemed to become. Soon it was not as if she could hear him from afar, but as if they were standing right next to each other. She thought about taking his hand, and then she felt his fingers.

"I think she's waking up." Janeway recognized the voice. It was Chakotay and instead of sounding warm and confident he sounded tired and frightened. "I saw her hand move."

"I'm surprised she would wake up on her own." This voice belonged to the Doctor. "The damage to their neural patterns was severe."

"She's always trying to get out of Sickbay," Chakotay said. It was a pale attempt at humor.

"I'm going to bring her out of it," the Doctor said. She felt a jolt of energy and her eyes opened. It was too bright so she shut them again and tried to orient herself once more to the living world. She hadn't been imagining it – she could feel Tom's hand in her own. She could also feel his breath on her neck. He was still asleep, his conscious mind was quiet.

"Captain?"

When she opened her eyes again, she could focus. She saw Tom, his sleeping face right next to hers. She realized that they were on the same bio-bed in sickbay.

"Captain Janeway, can you hear me?" the Doctor's voice was soft and close her ear.

"Yes," she said, softly.

"You're in sickbay," the Doctor said. "Do you remember how you got here?"

She looked over Tom's head to where the Doctor and Chakotay were standing at the bed side wearing similar pinched expressions of concern.

"We were on the planet," she said. "They put something in us… I don't know who, though. It made us… I could hear him. And then… pain."

"Voyager was scanned by an alien vessel. We lost our shields and they transported you and Mr. Paris onto their ship and went to high warp. We followed their warp trail to an M-class planet. You were there but we lost the trail of the ship," Chakotay said. "What can you tell me about the alien's captain?"

"I never saw them," she said. "We woke up on the planet."

"I may be able to give you more once I learn more about your implants," the Doctor said.

"Did you remove them?" she asked trying to sit up. The Doctor's firm hand pressed her back to her small part of the bed.

"I'm afraid not. For a time, they were the only things keeping your and Mr. Paris's brains active. They are extremely complex and embedded deep into your brainstems. It's going to take some time to figure out how to remove them," the Doctor explained.

"Why isn't Tom awake?" she asked looking down at him. "And why are we so…?"

"Your healing rate improved considerably when you maintained physical contact," the Doctor explained. "Tom will be fine, but you both need more rest. In the morning, I'd like to hear more about your experience."

"Captain, would you like us to continue our search for the alien ship or resume course to the Alpha Quadrant?" Chakotay asked.

"I have too many questions to simply let them go," she said. "Continue the search."

"Aye Ma'am," he said. "It's nice to have you back."

She looked at him but didn't know what to say. She was grateful when the Doctor pressed the issue of rest and Chakotay left sickbay.

"I suggest you get all the rest you can," the Doctor said. "I can move Mr. Paris if you'd like."

"No," she said. "It's… better this way."

The Doctor nodded once and dimmed the lights. It was easier than she expected to slip back into sleep.

oooo

Tom was dreaming. He was dreaming of the first time he'd piloted a vessel solo. The first legal time, anyhow. It had been a small shuttle and he'd carried cargo from Earth to Jupiter Station. What would now be a routine mission was then exhilarating. In his dream, instead of the engineering and medical supplies he'd been carrying, he was hauling a cargo full of flowers. They were pink roses and the whole shuttle smelled fragrant and wonderful.

When he opened his eyes, Janeway's own blue eyes were staring back at him.

"You were still a cadet," she said, whispering. They would only have a few moments before the Doctor realized that both of his patients were awake.

"My father pulled some strings," Tom replied. Cadets weren't allowed to pilot solo vessels but Tom had always been an exceptional pilot.

"Pink roses are my favorite," she said.

"I know," he replied.

"Lieutenant Paris!" the Doctor said, coming over to the bed they shared. "Welcome to the world of the conscious."

"Thanks Doc," he said.

"I'm going to need you both to sit up. I will get clearer medical readings if you are apart."

Her head felt a little woozy when she sat up but she couldn't tell if it was because of her or what Tom was feeling. He scooted over to put a few inches between them. The Doctor ran his tricorder over her first, and then him.

"Can you tell me what you experience with the implant?" he prodded. Tom glanced at her and she nodded.

"I can hear her thoughts," Tom said. "It's more than that though… I can see images that don't belong to me."

"We share sensation, also," Janeway said. "If he gets hurt, I can feel it."

"I wonder if unconsciousness dampens the effects," the Doctor mused.

"Yes and no," she said. "I was aware of him and… I could see his dream."

"Fascinating," the Doctor said. "The implants are acting like a tether. When we beamed Mr. Paris aboard, the tether was stretched too far and snapped causing excessive damage to both of your brains. I had to reactivate the implants to reboot your brains."

"Can you remove them?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," the Doctor said. "Perhaps if we contact the aliens, I can learn more about the technology and the motive behind implanting you with it. They seem to gather a lot of data but I'm not sure what for."

"Seven."

Tom and the Captain said this together. It had been Janeway's though, originally but possession of thoughts was becoming sticky the longer they shared a connection.

"Sorry?" the Doctor asked.

"Seven of Nine," Tom said.

"She might recognize the technology," Janeway added.

"From her days with the Borg," Tom finished. Seven hadn't been on Voyager very long and though Janeway probed Tom's mind on the subject, she found no ill will toward Seven or herself for insisting Seven stay aboard.

"Oh, you finishing each other's sentences won't get old, fast," the Doctor muttered. "Doctor to Seven of Nine."

"Yes, Doctor?" Seven's voice was even and dry.

"Please report to sickbay."

Seven arrived and eyed the Captain and Tom with some curiosity. Captain Janeway tended to keep a professional distance from her crew, but now she sat next to Tom on the bed, close enough so that they were flush – their legs and shoulders touching. Seven looked at the scans the Doctor had taken of the implants on the terminal.

"Species 4539," Seven said. "The Agorna."

"What do you know about them?" Janeway asked.

"The Borg assimilated two vessels. Their bone structure was incompatible with drone body structure."

"Lucky bastards," Tom said. Janeway tried not to smile.

"Go on, Seven," she said.

"Species 4539 are extremely paranoid. They live believing that other species are after their technology and resources," Seven offered.

"Why would they attack Voyager? Why would they abduct us?" Tom asked.

"It is an effective way of dealing with an enemy," Seven offered. "They separate the two most important people from their ship. They interrogate the officers and leave the vessel without leadership."

"Captain Janeway, yes, but Mr. Paris?" the Doctor asked, scandalized.

"Hey!" Tom said.

"Mr. Paris is the ranking conn officer, is he not?" Seven asked. "He plots the course and is often the first to detect the obstacles in space ahead. He maps the territories and designs the flight plan."

"See?" Tom asked.

"Tom is important," Janeway said. "Seven, what can you tell me about their technology?"

"They are technologically advanced," Seven said. "Capable of warp flight and medically superior."

"She wants to know about the implant," Tom said, impatiently. "Do you know how it works? How to remove it?"

"I do not," she said. Tom sighed. Janeway didn't need to be able to read Tom's mind to know what he was thinking – they were going to be stuck this way for a while.

"Forever?" Tom asked.

"I don't know," she murmured. Tom searched her face and she lifted one shoulder. "We could try."

"If he'll let us."

"Captain?" asked Seven, watching them with a confused expression.

"Are we fit to return to duty?" Janeway asked.

"I don't think so," the Doctor said. "While I'm not close to solving this problem, I think you'll find having two people in your head distracting during the best of times."

"Voyager needs her Captain," Tom said.

"And her pilot," Janeway added.

"Take a day or two off duty to get used to life together," the Doctor offered. "Find a rhythm."

"The collective was efficient because the hive followed a single leader, one dominant mind," Seven offered. "Perhaps that would work in your case as well?"

Janeway elbowed Tom in the ribs lightly, retaliation for a comment the Doctor and Seven couldn't hear.

"Thanks for the suggestion," Janeway said. "You're dismissed, Seven." They watched her exit the room before turning back to the Doctor, their movements oddly synchronized.

"You understand what this is going to entail, don't you?"

"We're beginning to," Tom said. Already he had to work harder to shield her from things he didn't want her to see and he knew she was doing the same. He was getting snippets of the oddest images, things too personal to be shared aloud. An Irish Setter running through a green field, her father in his admiral's uniform, _his_ father with Captain's pip aboard the Al-Battani.

"You'll need to stay close. Physically I mean. Share quarters, eat your meals together. I know you'll want to try to keep things private, but it will start to exhaust you," the Doctor warned. "I can't imagine the sensation is pleasant, but being open will help you cope with this new… adjustment."

"And you'll work on the solution?" Janeway asked.

"Around the clock," the Doctor promised. "I need to find a way to remove the implant from your brain stem without damaging it."

"So we can go?" Tom asked.

"I want to see you first thing in the morning to check on your progress," the Doctor said. "But there is no reason to keep you here."

Janeway slid off the bed first and grabbed Tom's arm, tugging him along with her.

"Thank you, Doctor," she said. Once outside sickbay, Janeway seemed to relax slightly.

"You really do hate that place," Tom commented.

"It represents…" Janeway paused to consider her words. But he saw what she meant – Sickbay full of injured crew, cradling broken arms and flowing lacerations. The Doctor pulling a sheet over a lifeless body, an image of himself lying asleep on a bed in a blue medical gown.

"I see," he said. "But that is no excuse to sacrifice your own health."

"I know the lecture," she snapped.

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured. She got images from him too – herself in a matching blue gown, herself limping across the bridge, holding her side, herself wiping blood out of her eyes. She felt fear and concern from him.

"I think," she said softly. "We should stop by your quarters and get some of your things."

"You want me to stay with you?" he asked.

"You heard the Doctor," she said. "We need to stay close."

"I guess," he said. "What if?"

"I don't know," she said. They could easily schedule bridge shifts together but what about his training with the Doctor in sickbay now that Kes had left? What about off-duty time? Constant togetherness would start to wear them both down, she was sure.

She almost missed his next thought but it was as if he whispered it to her – he was trying to hide it.

_I would never get tired of you._

She looked at him, surprise on her face but they were outside his quarters and he busied himself with opening the door. Well, now she knew his entry code. In his living area, she could feel a wave of embarrassment at the state of things but she made sure to think loudly that it wasn't so bad. A few clothes on the floor, a couple dirty dishes but nothing as bad as some academy dorm rooms she'd seen.

"What should I bring?" he asked.

"Toothbrush," she offered. "Clothes."

"Okay," he said.

"I'll wait here for you," she said and sat down on the sofa.

Without a distraction, her mind began to wonder. She looked around, searching for more personal aspects of Tom's personality. When she'd first boarded Voyager, she'd walked through every room of the ship, crawled through every Jefferies tube, and personally checked every system. But this was the first time she'd been in Tom's quarters since he'd moved in and was surprised to see no photographs or anything that reminded him of home.

"Do you really think I want to be reminded of home?" he asked, standing in the entryway between his bedroom and living area.

"I don't…" She wasn't sure how to respond.

"Voyager is my home," he said. "There's nothing left for me on Earth."

"Tom," she said. "I'm sorry."

"I know you respect my father, but I don't," he said and disappeared.

She wondered if Tom ever had any children, would they feel about her the way Tom felt about his own father? Would they hate her for taking him away?

Tom reappeared with a bag slung over his shoulder.

"Let's go," she said. She was nervous about having a member of her crew invading her personal space but he was nervous about doing it so neither said a thing. With no conversation and no distractions, they were going to run out of secrets soon. Janeway wondered if she'd hung her nightgown up in the closet before she'd left and Tom seemed to miss a beat at the thought of his captain in a satin nightgown.

"I am a woman, you know," she said, trying to make light.

"I know," he said gravely. It was a fact he was all to aware of.

"We're going to make this work," she said. "Like two professional adults."

"Which we are," he said. She didn't have a response to that. In the turbo lift, they stood quietly. "Oh, come on, that isn't fair," he said.

"Life isn't fair, Mr. Paris," she replied. Maybe sending him an image of himself cleaning the plasma injectors was a bit harsh but she wanted to get the point across that even if he knew her deepest, darkest thoughts, she was still the boss.

"You try your hardest to project an image of being gender neutral and now you're mad that's what I see you as?" he asked.

"You don't see me that way," she said, softly.

"Ma'am, I assure you…"

"You know what's odd?" she interrupted. "I can see myself as I see me but I can see myself as you see me too."

They stepped off the lift and she keyed in her code while he contemplated the statement.

"I see what I see," he settled on. "Maybe you're the one who is seeing a biased perspective."

"If this lasts more than a couple days, we'll get a cot in here all right?" she said. "In the mean time?"

"Couch," he said.

"Good man," she said. He set down his bag and looked around.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Now we wait," she said.

"What do you see?" he asked. She sat on the sofa and he sat next to her.

"I see crows feet and gravity," she said. "But you see… I don't know. I can see myself, but I'm different somehow. You think I'm small."

"You are," he pointed out.

"But you don't think it's bad."

"Why would it be bad?" he asked.

"And my hair… you see it red," she said. "I don't understand it."

"Your hair _is _red!" he exclaimed.

"Planet side," she said. "But after three years on a ship it tends to lose its luster."

She realized something.

"You see me as if it's the first time," she said. "You see me as you saw me in New Zealand."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"People change," she warned him. "It does no one any good to cling to idealized versions of people."

"So you're a woman and a human?" he asked. She smiled at him.

"Guilty," she said. "What do you say to some lunch?"

"I'd say it's a start," he said


	2. Chapter 2

In the commotion, they'd forgotten about the actual implants. Janeway had covered hers with her hair but Tom's was visible. The Doctor had numbed the area to stop the discomfort, but when they walked into the mess hall, they drew some attention. Chakotay had briefed the crew on this new development – Janeway could tell because a hush fell over the room when they entered.

"Captain! Lieutenant!" Neelix broke the ice. "Nice to see you back!"

"Thank you," Janeway said.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, ushering them down into seats at their own table.

"Coffee," Tom said. "Black." Janeway smirked at him. "What? It sounds good," he defended.

"I'll say," Janeway said. "Make that two and whatever you're serving for lunch."

"Of course," Neelix said.

"Am I going to start craving pizza?" she asked.

"Maybe a bowl of tomato soup," he chuckled.

Neelix came back with their meals. He set them on the table and waited with his hands behind his back.

"Thank you, Neelix," Janeway said in a much kinder voice than she felt. Tom smiled and ducked his head to hide it.

"You're welcome," he said and grinned.

"Was there… something else?" Tom asked.

"As morale officer, it's my duty to make sure our two most important officers are doing all right," he said.

"Have you been talking to the Doctor?" Janeway asked. Tom cleared his throat.

"He may have mentioned that he released the two of you from sickbay," Neelix said.

"We're fine," Tom said. "But if we need something, we'll let you know."

Neelix nodded and let them be but Tom could see him watching them from across the room.

"One would think we'd be used to gossip about us," Janeway said, prodding at the meal on her tray.

"No one gossips about you, Captain Janeway," Tom said, his face stoic for a moment before she saw the flicker in his eyes and felt the mirth coming from him.

"Yeah," she said. "Sure."

"At least not while you're in the room," he added.

"The truth," she said.

"You may as well take a bite," Tom said, changing the subject. "It's not so bad."

"Not so bad isn't exactly a ringing endorsement," she said, shoveling some food onto her fork.

"It's got a weird texture but the flavor isn't terrible," he admitted. She tried it and shrugged.

"I'll eat it," she said. "But I don't have to enjoy it."

oooo

"Chakotay!"

The Commander turned around in the corridor to see B'Elanna walking toward him.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Fine," she said. "I think. Do you have a minute?"

"Of course, I was just heading into my office," he said. "Join me."

B'Elanna settled into the chair opposite his and waited for him to get ready for a good talk.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

"I saw the Captain and Tom in the mess earlier," she said.

"The Doctor mentioned that he'd released them from sickbay," Chakotay said. "I was going to go by after the shift change."

"They ate lunch together," B'Elanna said.

"The implants force a certain amount of proximity," Chakotay said.

"They came together and left together," B'Elanna said. "Harry said they were… chatting."

"I'm sorry, what exactly was your concern?" Chakotay asked.

"I've never seen Janeway be… chatty before."

"You don't spend a lot of time with her off-duty. Or on, for that matter," Chakotay pointed out. "She's more than the sum of her pips, B'Elanna."

"I know!" B'Elanna said. "But it was strange. I couldn't hear them but they seemed totally at ease."

"That's a good thing."

"If someone was reading my mind, the last thing I would be is comfortable with it," she said.

"You want to know what I think?" Chakotay asked. B'Elanna nodded. "They aren't like us."

"What do you mean?"

"The Captain and Tom are both so steeped in Starfleet that they surely think the same way. It's probably uncomfortable for them, but not impossible," Chakotay said.

"Janeway, yes, but Tom?" B'Elanna asked.

"Oh yes," Chakotay said. "When I agreed to be second in command, I spent a lot of time looking over everyone's personnel files. Tom's was most enlightening."

"I know Tom as well as anyone," B'Elanna said testily.

"Anyone except Kathryn Janeway," he said. "She spent years under the command of his father. The Paris's and Janeway's have been in Starfleet for generations."

"Tom hates his father," B'Elanna argued.

"If you ask the Captain," Chakotay said. "Tom is just like his father."

B'Elanna took a moment to consider this.

"What is your real concern, B'Elanna?" Chakotay asked.

"I guess," she sighed, looking suddenly sheepish. "I guess it's that Tom walked right by me and didn't say a thing."

"I see."

"What if they never get those things out of their head?" B'Elanna asked. "Will I lose Tom forever?" Chakotay leaned back in his char and rubbed his face.

"I can't tell you the amount of things I've lost to Kathryn Janeway," he said.

This did not make B'Elanna feel any better.

oooo

"You're tired," Tom said.

"A bit," she admitted. No use lying, after all.

"Do you want to return to your quarters?" he prodded. They were in Stellar Cartography and she was pouring over the star charts of the region they were in. He could tell she was desperate – as if knowing more about the planet they'd been found on would lead them to know more about the Agorna.

"Desperate is a little harsh," she said, looking up at him.

"What if we never track them down?" Paris said. "Is that such a bad thing? Those transporters cut right through our shields. Is it wise to engage in more contact with a paranoid, aggressive species?"

"They may be our only hope in removing the implants," she said.

"I wouldn't write the Doc of just yet," he said. "He just needs more time."

"And if he can't find a solution?" Janeway asked. Tom said nothing, instead looking at her searchingly, his mind open and probing.

"Would it be so bad?" he asked finally. "It isn't ideal, but as far as consequences go…"

"We could adapt," she admitted. "But I believe our individuality would suffer. Our relationships would suffer. Having friends or lovers would be almost impossible."

He hadn't thought of that. Come to think of it, he'd barely thought about anyone other than himself or her since the whole thing started.

"You see?" she prodded. "Harry could never tell you something without telling his Captain. And forget about romance – any date you went on, I'd have to be there. Mentally and physically."

"That's a bridge we'll have to cross when we get there," he said.

"Tell that to B'Elanna," she said.

"B'Elanna and I aren't…" He paused. He didn't have to say it. She could see the back and forth, the thrill of the chase and then… B'Elanna had told him she'd loved him? Janeway hadn't known that. Instead of feeling happy about it, Tom had felt panic and the urge to flee.

"You've been leading her on," Janeway scolded.

"I know," he said. "I've been waiting for the right time to… but is there ever a right time with a Klingon?"

"I shouldn't even know this," Janeway said, sitting down at the stool in front of the console she'd been working on. "This is… I don't know. Disorienting."

"And what of your love life?" he said.

"Not a question one should ask one's Captain," she snapped.

"With all due respect, Captain, if your theory is correct, it's going to become my business," he said. She hated it, but it was right.

"Well don't worry," she said. "I haven't got one."

"But I thought…"

He stopped himself before he said it out loud but she could see Chakotay clearly in his thoughts.

"Not that it's _any_ of your business, but no," she said. "Not ever and so help me God if you press me on this issue, I'll find some way to punish you even if it means punishing us both."

"Understood," he said.

"Come on, let's go," she sighed. In the corridor, they headed for her quarters. She could feel him smirking beside her. "What?"

"He made you a bathtub?" Tom said through his smile. She reached out and smacked him on his arm, forgetting that the pain would show up on her self only a moment later.

oooo

In bed, Janeway tossed and turned. Sleep was no use, absolutely no use. Tom's mind was racing.

"Because yours is," he called from her couch on the other side of the wall.

"Because yours is!" she argued. She heard him sigh and get to his feet. He came to her doorway and stood in the frame, his arms crossed.

"We managed it the first night," he pointed out. "On the planet."

"You slept," she said. "I didn't."

"For part of it," he argued.

"Sheer exhaustion," she said. "I don't want to have to run ourselves ragged every single day in order to get a little shut eye."

"And the Doctor has made himself perfectly clear on the daily use of sedatives," Tom added.

"Which leaves us with…"

"A problem," he said. "Don't think it."

"Too late," she said. He sighed.

"Tuvok was right," Tom muttered. He'd offered to give them lessons on meditation and quieting the mind.

"He tends to be which, I know, is frustrating," Janeway said, sitting up in the bed. She pulled the covers around her waist, bunching the blanket. He glanced at her in the low light – she had chosen a blue shift to sleep in. It didn't seem comfortable having something so high up on her neck, but then again, the uniform was the same way and she had worn it nearly her whole life.

"You'll ask him about it?" Tom said, instead. But she looked at him, her hand at her neck. There was no 'instead' these days.

"Yes," she said.

"Only one of us has to actually be there for the lesson," he said. "He's your best friend."

"Best friend?" she said. It was hard to think of a Vulcan in the way she thought of her close human friends, but he was probably right. Tuvok was trustworthy and dependable. He believed in her.

"I believe in you," Tom said. She sighed, heavy and exaggerated.

"We have got to get some sleep," she said.

"For our busy day of doing nothing tomorrow?" he asked, sounding a little bitter. She threw back the blankets and he saw a flash of bare ankle and small toes. She had such small feet. He turned away while she pulled on her robe.

"Come on," she said. "We're going for a walk."

He couldn't surprise her with the location. The only way he could surprise her with the holodeck program was because she hadn't decided until they stood in front of the interface, scrolling through program options. If it were Harry, he'd suggest a martial arts program, something to tire them out physically.

"You don't think I could beat up a Klingon?" she asked, pausing the list of programs to turn to him.

"I think our bodies could use a full week without getting pummeled. Yours and mine," he said.

"Nice save," she murmured, turning back to the screen. "Horse riding?"

"No."

"Parasailing?" she asked.

"You know what I used to do to tire myself out?" he asked, nudging her aside to gain access to the controls. On a normal day, she'd give him an icy look but they both understand that protocol only works up to a certain level. She can feel that he means no disrespect by his easy conversation, a familiar touch now and then. It's freeing, actually, not having to analyze every little word or movement.

She knows what she's going to see before the door opens, but there it is just the same. The Starfleet Academy aquatic center. A large, rectangular swimming pool made the holodeck humid and warm. The lights above reflected off the water and they walked up to the edge of the water and peered down.

"Laps," she said. "Is this about wanting to see me in a bathing suit?"

"Well," he said. Which wasn't really an answer but she could answer it for herself. He really did used to swim laps in his cadet days.

In the changing area, across the hall from where he went, she found a Starfleet issue swimming suit in her size. It was grey and tight to cut down on resistance. Because of her career track, the suit had dark red piping along the seams. She found it odd, the constant need for classification, even on something as unimportant as a bathing costume but people liked to know where they stood. Or swam, as it was.

Tom's trunks had red on them too.

"I looked better in the blue," she said when they met again at the edge of the pool. It was a throw away thought, something she would have never voiced if he wouldn't have heard it anyway.

"A science officer," Tom said. "You look good in red, too."

"Lucky for me," she said and walked away from him, intent on choosing a lane. She wondered which he would choose once she planted her feet at the edge of the pool. If it were Harry, he'd place the most distance he could between them. Chakotay would give her the space of one lane to keep her close but not crowd her. Tom, she suspected, would walk right up to her and keep her near.

"You know me too well," he said and stood next to her, only a plastic line of buoys separating them. He dove in first and she wasted no time jumping in after him and pushing off the wall. The water felt nice and refreshing. Her limbs were strong and carried her body quickly but Tom stayed ahead of her and touched the wall first. She felt him turn around and shoot past her again.

About ten laps later, the Doctor contacted her. His voice was filtered through the speakers in the pool so she could hear his summons underwater. She stopped herself mid-stroke and started treading water in the middle of the pool. Tom stopped too and swam toward her, hanging on to the lane line.

"Janeway here," she said, relying on the holodeck communications systems because her comm. badge was in the dressing room.

"Captain, I'm concerned. I'm getting some strange readings from your implant. From Mr. Paris's as well."

"Strange?" Tom asked.

"Please report to sickbay," the Doctor ordered. "I'd like to run some tests."

Sighing, they swam to the edge. Tom pushed himself up out of the water first and then helped pull her out. His skin was slippery with water but his grip firm. She made sure not to look at him too closely – the sprinkle of hair across his chest or the defined muscles in his retreating back. She wouldn't say anything about him just as he wouldn't voice his thoughts on her bare shoulders.

The Doctor looked at them oddly when they walked in. They were in their nightwear but both were wet. Janeway's hair was slicked back and her face washed clean.

"We were swimming," Tom said.

"That explains the interesting atmospheric readings I was getting," the Doctor said. "I don't believe I cleared you for full submersion with your alien devices."

"Is that all you were concerned about?" Janeway prodded.

"No," the Doctor said. "I'm concerned about your hormone levels. These readings suggest that the longer your implants are in, the more connected you will become. If I don't find a way to remove them soon, they're going to be permanent."

"We knew that," Tom said. "Didn't we?"

"He wasn't sure," Janeway said. "What about putting us in stasis to buy you time?"

"It may come to that," the Doctor said. "Since it isn't life threatening I am reluctant to do so but Mr. Kim has found no trace of the aliens who did this too you. I can't base my research on the idea that we may find more information down the line."

"Agreed," Janeway said. "If Voyager finds still no trace of the ship tomorrow, we'll resume course to the Alpha Quadrant."

"Get some sleep," the Doctor said. "I'll have more for you in the morning."

"About that," Tom said. "We're having trouble sleeping. Any suggestions?"

"Our minds won't quiet down," Janeway offered.

"We know so little about this technology," the Doctor said. "But we do know that the more distance between you, the more activity in the implant. The closer your are, the easier it will be to work together and to control what you send to one another."

The Doctor didn't come out and say it, of course, but the implication was clear.

oooo

In her quarters, it was awkward. Tom went back to the sofa and told her goodnight in no uncertain terms. She retreated to her bedroom and got back in bed, willing her mind into silence. The silence, however, was strained and every time she thought she heard something from his mind, it was yanked away.

Eventually, though, she slept.

She was dreaming about New Earth. She was walking along the river, her feet bare. It was warm and bright and she held her hand at her brow, shielding her gaze from the glare of the sun on the water. She was looking for someone.

"Chakotay?" she called. There was no response. She walked a few more meters and then saw it – the overturned boat, broken and washed up on the shore.

She was alone.

oooo

"Captain?"

Tom's voice helped her rise up through the fog of sleep. She opened her eyes and looked toward the sound. Tom was in his uniform in her doorway.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice husky with sleep.

"Nothing," he assured her. "But it's time to wake up." They had an appointment with the Doctor and he didn't want to have to miss breakfast.

"All right," she said. He stepped away and left her to shower and dress. He'd surprised her, being in uniform. Tom was the type to wear civilian clothes at every opportunity, since on Voyager the opportunities were rare. In her closet, she had some civilian clothes – most had been replicated after coming to the Delta Quadrant. Most of her things she'd left at home, with Mark and…

No, no. That was a bad road to go down with someone else listening in. She stepped into the sonic shower, allowing only one longing glance to her bathtub and stood quietly while the shower cycled through. In the mirror, she could see that her hair was going to be out of control today – punishment for falling asleep while it was wet.

She pulled on a uniform and stood in her bathroom looking at her hair with a critical and somewhat hateful eye.

"Don't you dare," Tom said, appearing in the doorway. She could see his reflection in the mirror but she turned around anyway.

"I could have been naked, Mr. Paris," she teased.

"I knew you weren't," he said. "I also know what you're thinking."

"I've been thinking about cutting my hair for six years," she said. "And I every time I voice the thought, the man in my life steps in and has a small fit."

"As the man in your life now, allow me to pitch that fit," he said. "Don't cut it."

"It's just hair," she said, throwing up her hands. "Men. They never do grow up, do they?"

"Maybe not," he admitted with a smile.

"Well, Tom. As the _man_ in my life, consider your opinion noted," she said. "But I think I'm really going to do it this time."

"If we get the implants out," Tom said. "Do it in celebration of that."

"A fair compromise," she said. She picked up her hairbrush and expected him to go but he stayed and watched her brush out the snarls, watched her gather the hair at her temples, watched her fasten the gold clip around her ponytail while the light of the implant blinked and blinked.

oooo

"I've found a way to dampen the effects," the Doctor said and paused for the acclaim he thought he deserved. Tom and Janeway both waited for more information expectantly.

"Go on," she said.

"Seven and I have been developing a dampening field," the Doctor said. "It will help with some of the more severe symptoms and slow the effects that threaten to make this a permanent complication."

"Which symptoms?" Tom asked.

"Shared pain, for one. It should make distance more bearable and it should help you sleep," he said. "You'll have to wear cortical monitors. It isn't a solution."

"But it's a start," Janeway said. "Thank you, Doctor."

When the Doctor activated the dampening field, Tom seemed to move farther away from her even though he stood still beside her. It was harder, though not impossible, to feel Tom's mind probing for hers.

"Pinch me," Tom ordered the Doctor.

"Gladly," he said and pinched Tom's arm. Tom winced and Janeway waited but didn't feel anything.

"Good work, Doctor," she said. "Can we return to duty with these?"

"Limited duty," the Doctor said.

"Bridge duty," Tom said, happily. "Unless you want to do a shift in sickbay too, Captain?"

"You'll have to live without Tom for a while," Janeway said to the Doctor quickly.

When they exited the turbolift to bridge, Tom felt a definitely wave of relief and happiness coming from Janeway. Despite their circumstances, the woman really did love her job. People greeted them with a surprised murmur but no one said anything against their presence. Tom relieved the helm officer and slid into his seat. He was half way through his daily diagnostics when he felt the first prickle from Janeway. Something was getting up her ire up, enough so that he could feel it through the field.

He turned around to look at her and saw Chakotay standing close to her, his brow furrowed with concern. He had his hand on her arm and was whispering.

"Thank you for your thoughts on the matter, Commander, but we're both perfectly fine," she said, a steely note in her voice. Apparently Janeway didn't care for the Commander's overprotection. She glanced at him briefly and her spun back around in his chair focusing on his work.

The Commander was protective of her; they'd all seen it. To be honest, everyone was a little protective of Janeway, from Tuvok all the way down to Neelix. Everyone looked out for their Captain, after all, and Janeway could be reckless. She often lost sight of the bigger picture when she was swept up in the excitement of some new adventure. Every time she went on an away mission, Tuvok lost ten years of his life. She tended to get distracted and wander off without telling anyone or forget about procedure and protocol all together.

Suddenly she was beside him at the helm, leaning over the console as if studying some data.

"Tell me, Mr. Paris, are you going to sit there and contemplate my flaws the entire shift?" she murmured in a low voice.

"I'm not!" he argued. "I'm just thinking."

"Think about flying," she ordered and walked away.

But as the shift wore on, it became harder and harder not to let his mind wander. It was a slow shift. They were moving at a relatively slow speed trying to map the region with as much detail as possible while scanning for any last sign of the alien ship. Everyone seemed a little on edge with the Captain back after an absence so no one was particularly chatty. Usually Tom would be the one to break the silence with a joke or an observation but anytime he thought of something to say, he felt Janeway's eyes on the back of his neck and decided to hold his tongue.

And then it was her mind that was wandering. She was reading the latest engineering report, her legs crossed at her chair. He was getting the data from her in a steady stream but then she began to think about B'Elanna. He got a sharp pang of guilt from her and when he glanced over his shoulder at her, she had turned her face away from him. Was she feeling guilty because she knew that what he had with B'Elanna would never last or was she feeling guilty because she was helping to bring it a swift close?

She was right about relationships. Three was a crowd and if this did become permanent, they'd have to get used to being alone together.

"Mr. Paris?" she said. "I'd like to speak to you in my ready room."

Whoops. His mind had wandered too far. He followed her into the room and she faced him as soon as the door closed and crossed her arms defensively.

"I can't help it," he blurted.

"Neither can I," she said. "I think this is making it worse." She pointed to the monitor that was controlling the dampening field.

"What?"

"It's making it… harder. Instead of just knowing how you feel, I find myself searching for you when I should just be… I mean, it was kind of easy before. Now it's like every feeling I get from you is supposed to mean something!" she sputtered.

"Let's take them off," he said. "I think you're right. It is just complicating things."

"Fine," she said. She tilted her head slightly so he could reach out and plucked the monitor off. As soon as hers disconnected, the field disappeared and he felt a rush of emotion from her. They both swayed and he reached out to grab her arms to steady them both. The contact, however, was perhaps not the best idea because everything just got stronger. Her apprehension about this rash decision, the fear that they'd never truly be themselves again, the secret pleasure that it was Tom this had happened with and no one else, not even Chakotay. Not even B'Elanna. The exhaustion, the frustration, the need to be understood and the realization that now they were.

"He makes me so frustrated," Janeway said, finally. "He talks to me like I'm a child, like I don't know my own limits."

"He doesn't trust me," Paris offered. "He's worried about you."

"He's worried about Kathryn, not the Captain," she complained.

"You say it like they're different people," Tom said. She looked up, realized where they were standing and took a step back. He dropped his hands to his side.

"Guess I was holding that in."

"This has been… this experience with you has been good in some ways," Tom said. "It's been nice sharing things with you."

"Are you getting sappy on me, Paris?" she asked with a smile.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"More than anyone," she admitted. "But I trusted you before I knew your thoughts and feelings."

"I trust you too," he said. "That's what is going to make this work."

She nodded in agreement. He was telling her that he didn't want to dampen anything.

"Fine," she muttered. "I'll deal with the Doctor but I'm going to figure out some way to get you into a sickbay rotation without my own suffering."

"Evil woman," he muttered heading back to the bridge. He knew he was dismissed without her having to say it.

After an hour of her hiding away in her ready room and him being on the bridge, he was beginning to feel the separation. It was getting more difficult to focus. He scooted his chair a few centimeters toward her closed door, hoping that every little bit would help. He was getting far enough from his helm that he had to stretch almost comically to reach the left nacelle control when the door hissed open and she reappeared. She walked over to him and stood with her hand on his shoulder.

Everyone watched curiously. They waited for her to speak to Tom, to anyone, to justify her reappearance on the bridge.

"Any luck?" she asked Harry, finally. He'd been scanning all day.

"No Ma'am," he said. She frowned and wondered how long she could stand next to Tom for no apparent purpose before that vein in Tuvok's head burst. Tom snickered and the hand on his shoulder squeezed in warning. Thankfully they were saved by the shift change, relieving them for lunch.

"I heard Neelix discovered tofu," Tom said to her.

"If I kill you, would I die too?" she asked, stepping onto the turbolift. Harry and Chakotay got on too, leaving the bridge to Tuvok. Harry smiled at Tom who nudged him with his shoulder.

"I'm still me, Harry, relax."

"Okay," Harry said, but didn't look at all relaxed. Chakotay stared stoically at the doors waiting for them to part.

"Let's all eat together," Janeway said. "The four of us."

"Yes Ma'am," Chakotay said and Janeway frowned.

"It wasn't an order," she said. "Merely an invitation."

"What she means to say is, this has been strangely isolating and we need our friends back," Tom said. Harry's eyes widened at his presumptuous words but Janeway touched Harry's arm briefly.

"He does know what I mean," she said. The doors opened and they stepped out to the busy deck. "Come on. Tofu can be delicious."

"Seasoned with Talaxian spices no doubt," Tom muttered. They stood in line and got their trays and Janeway let Chakotay choose the table. He waited for her to sit and then sat next to her. Maybe it was a power play but Tom didn't mind sitting next to Harry or across from the Captain who told him, though not audibly, not to start anything with the fragile Commander.

Tom argued that he wasn't fragile, he just wasn't used to not having her full attention and she told him that Chakotay wasn't four years old and Tom should give him a little credit.

"Tom?"

Harry was talking to him. He looked at Harry's concerned expression and Chakotay's set jaw.

"Sorry, what?"

"I just asked about how you were feeling," Harry said. "Haven't seen you much."

"We're fine," Tom said, not even realizing he was speaking for the both of them. It was hard to think of how he was feeling without taking her into consideration. In a lot of ways, her feelings belonged to him, too.

"The Doctor's report said he gave you something to reduce the effects?" Chakotay probed.

"He did," Janeway said. "But I can't say it helped."

"I'm sure he'd adjust it for you, Captain," Harry said.

"The device works fine," Tom said. "It just makes things feel weird. Like having a hood over our face and trying to go through the day like nothings wrong."

"Well put," Janeway said fondly.

"What did the Doctor say?" Chakotay asked.

"He's still working on it," Janeway said vaguely. She wasn't lying, he was working on procedure to remove the implants but he hadn't been thrilled about their unwillingness to wear his devices. Tom wisely offered none of this information. "You'll be all right without us for the later shift?" she asked Chakotay.

"We're still on light duty," Tom explained.

"Yes, Captain," Chakotay said though he didn't at all seem willing.


	3. Chapter 3

Janeway was trying to teach Tom to play Kal-toh. Her boredom had become intolerable and he'd suggested a game. Tuvok had been training her to play Kal-toh for the last five years and though she was nowhere near an expert she had a basic grasp of the rules.

"How come you don't understand it if I do?" Janeway asked, frustrated. Tom had pulled the wrong peg and the whole structure had collapsed.

"Maybe you're faking it," he offered and she scowled at him. They were expecting Tuvok in fifteen minutes for their first meditation lesson and Janeway had thought a game of Kal-toh would put them in a more Vulcan state of mind. Instead they were both feeling a little overwhelmed.

"Maybe we should've stuck to chess," she sighed.

"Or checkers," he laughed.

"Tic-tac-toe?" she offered.

"We could just lie down and wait for all of this to go away," he said.

They were laughing still when the chime went off.

"Come in," Janeway called. Tuvok entered holding his lamp. They tried to calm their features but Janeway could feel Tom holding in his laughter and it just set her off again. Tuvok stood and watched them impassively.

"I could come back," Tuvok said, finally.

"No," Janeway said wiping her eyes. "No, Tom is just funny. Come in, have a seat."

With the candle lit and the three of them on the floor around it, Tuvok tried to explain to them the importance of meditation.

"Keeping your mind clear will help to center yourself," Tuvok was saying. "Close your eyes and think of nothing."

Tom tried this. He thought of nothing, of blank space. Then, he thought about what nothing would look like to Janeway. Then he tried to peek into her mind to look at her nothingness to make sure his was the same.

"Stop it," Janeway said.

"Is something wrong?" Tuvok asked.

"Tom's trying to think of my nothing instead of his own nothing," she said.

"Mr. Paris," Tuvok said. "Your mind is your temple and whatever you think is true. You cannot think incorrectly."

"Got it," he said, chastised. He closed his eyes and tried to really think of nothing this time.

"Think about the things that make you yourself. Think about something that you wouldn't share with another person. Try to shield your thoughts from the other people in the room," Tuvok instructed.

Janeway thought that sounded like a pretty bad idea. Besides, she wasn't even sure what she considered secret enough that she'd never tell another soul. And what if she couldn't shield it and then not only Tom, but Tuvok would know as well? She had to pick something startling, but not life-altering.

Tom sighed heavily.

"I'm _sorry_," Janeway said. "This is difficult for me."

"Why don't I go first?" Tom said, a little more gently. He decided to think of his father, a subject that immediately made him feel like a failure who could never be good enough. Tom had been 13 when he'd sneaked out of his house and came back two hours after his curfew drunk for the first time on Katarian wine. His father had been horrified and irate and had slapped Tom across the face, bruising his pale cheekbone. Owen had apologized later but Tom had been skittish around his father for months afterwards.

Tom held the memory in his mind and kept it close to him, trying to hide it from the other probing minds in the room. Then, he sent it away.

"Did it work?" he asked, opening his eyes.

"Yes," said Tuvok. "Very good, Lieutenant."

"No," Janeway said. "I saw it… heard it." She lifted her hand to her cheek as if she'd felt the sting as well.

"Hmm," Tuvok said. "That is most perplexing. Perhaps my methods will not be able to overcome such a strong link."

Janeway sighed and hung her head a little.

"Thanks anyway," Tom said. Tuvok may have been a stickler, but he knew a dismissal when he heard one and wasted no time gathering his things and leaving them be.

"I didn't know that about Admiral Paris," she said.

"The man you know is a stranger to me," Tom said. "And vice versa I'd imagine."

"He was a fine Captain, Tom," Janeway said. "He made me the person I am today, the Captain I am. That being said, his behavior as a father was…"

"Inexcusable." Tom finished the thought for her.

"Yes."

"Don't worry about me, Captain," Tom said. "That was a long time ago now and I'm a different person now."

"You're a good man, Tom," Janeway said, a fond smile on her face. Tom knew she wasn't lying when she said it, felt the waves of affection and approval from her.

"I know you know this already, but there isn't anyone else on this ship I'd rather be in this situation with," Tom admitted.

"Here, here," she said.

They ate replicated soup for dinner and abandoned Kal-toh for one of Tom's favorite games – an antique thing called _Risk_. He'd replicated it aboard Voyager but had only ever played it with Harry.

"Harry has never won?" Janeway asked.

"Not once," Tom gloated. "He can't see the finer points of world domination."

"I suppose not," she said.

"Some how I think you have the ruthless streak to beat me," Tom said.

"I'm not ruthless," she said. "I'm just determined."

"Cutthroat," he said.

"Calculated," she corrected. "I'm not like fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants Tom Paris."

"Hey, being flexible has gotten me out of a lot of scrapes," he said. "Don't knock it 'til you've tried it."

"Just roll," she prompted.

"You aren't getting the Middle East. You don't have enough troops," he warned her.

"That's what you think," she said. "Remember, I've stood up to the Borg."

"Hmph," he said.

oooo

Tom looked at the cortical monitor in his hand. It was after midnight and they were both still awake. He didn't like the hazy way the dampening field made him feel, but what would it matter if he were asleep? They were never going to be fit for duty if they couldn't find a way to get some rest.

"I've been thinking about the same thing," Janeway said, appearing in her living area, her peach robe belted tightly around her small frame. He looked up. "That was probably an unnecessary sentence but…"

"I can't figure out why I have such a dislike for this device," he said.

"Maybe it's not us," she said. "Maybe the implant is designed to revolt against tampering of any kind."

"It's a bizarre way to torture people, I'll give you that," Tom said. "Why not just kill us? Why abandon us on a planet to die anyway?"

"Who knows?" she answered. "But think about a device like this on someone like B'Elanna? Or Between Tuvok and… Neelix? Theoretically, it could drive a person insane."

"So what are you saying? We're just lucky to get along?"

She shrugged one shoulder.

"Could be worse," she said. "Tom?"

He knew what she was thinking and he shook his head.

"I don't think so, Captain," he said.

"We don't want to wear the dampening field, and we don't want to stay awake forever," she argued. "The Doctor said this would work, probably."

"I just…" Tom rubbed his face. "I never thought I'd see you trying to get me into your bed."

"Ha, ha," she said dryly.

"Sorry."

"The truth of the matter is I'm exhausted and running out of good cheer. It's Doctor's orders. Come in here," she said. "Please."

"Fine," he said. He grabbed his pillow and followed her into her bedroom. He could see that she'd been restless as well. The bed was wrinkled and the blanket had been kicked down to the foot of the mattress. For all the sharing they'd done in the last few days, they'd kept actual physical contact to a minimum. It was one of the things they still had control over, one last intimate and personal barrier yet to be broken. But now, contact was the one thing that was going to help, to quiet their minds and allow them rest.

"Ironic, no?" Tom said out loud. Janeway agreed quietly but busied herself with smoothing the sheet and blanket. He waited and she motioned to the bed.

"You first. I prefer the side closest to the door," she said.

"Okay," he said, deciding against any jokes. Usually he broke the tension by using well-placed humor but somehow that wasn't going to work this time. He crawled into the bed and put his head down tentatively. She got in after him and made a big show of adjusting the blankets around her. They both lay their backs looking at the ceiling.

"Computer, lights at five percent," she said. The room got darker. So far, the only thing that had changed was their level of comfort, or lack there of.

"This isn't working."

"Okay," she said. "I think we have to actually touch."

"This has been a weird day," he muttered.

"My whole life is weird," she commiserated. "Just take my hand." She reached out under the blanket and found his hand. He took it, squeezed it a little. It didn't seem to make much of a difference. He could hear her having quiet doubts as well.

Ten minutes later, they were both sleeping like babies.

oooo

Tom was still sleeping. Janeway didn't know what it was about men, but the moment they fell asleep, they reverted back to little boys. Tom curled in on himself, his face pressed into the mattress, the crown of his head pushed into her side. Sometime in the night he'd begun to slink down and now she could feel his hot breath on her waist and his feet were almost hanging off the end of the bed.

She got nothing from him at the moment – it was like radio silence. He was out of the deepest level of sleep; still tired enough that he was unaware of his location but his subconscious knew that morning was near. It was nice to have her thoughts to herself but she almost missed his company.

It had been a long time, a very long time, since a man had spent the night in her bed. She raised her hand and ran her fingers lightly through his hair. It was darker now too, more sandy than blonde like when he'd first come aboard. They could both stand a day in the sun.

She thought morning would be odd, uncomfortable, and strange. It had been those things the night before but now she felt rested and comfortable. She trusted Tom implicitly and knew that when he finally opened his eyes, things would be okay.

Tom woke up but did not open his eyes. He felt deliciously rested, warm and comfortable. He felt _relaxed_. The bed he was in was larger than his own and allowed him the luxury of sprawling out a bit. He was pressed against something warm and solid and felt movement above him – someone was stroking his hair and it felt amazing.

"You want some coffee?"

Janeway's voice demanded that he opened his eyes. He looked up to see her sitting over him. His head was practically on her lap and she rested her arm across his back comfortably, the fingers of her free hand still playing idly with strands of his hair. In her other hand, she had a PADD. She'd been waiting for him to wake up.

He blinked, his eyes still foggy with sleep.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Early," she said. "I never sleep more than five or six hours."

"I could sleep all day," he said rolling off her lap and sitting up. He yawned and stretched.

"I do feel better," she said, with a warm smile. "Now that you're up, I'll replicate a pot of coffee." She got out of bed and walked out into the main room where the replicator was located. She didn't bother to put on her robe, feeling more comfortable around him now, even in a nightgown. There wasn't much left to hide, after all.

Tom used the restroom and washed his face. When he came out, she'd not only made coffee but replicated toast and eggs as well. She'd set the table for them and waited for him, her mug and PADD in hand. He sat down and placed his napkin in his lap.

"This is not a bad life," he said, pouring him self a mug of coffee. He added some cream from the tiny jug.

"Doesn't hurt to be Captain's pet," she agreed. He was incredulous but she rolled her eyes at his expression and tossed down the PADD to focus on breakfast and conversation with him.

"I wouldn't say…"

"Oh come on," she said. "Of course you are and you have been since before these implants."

He merely waited for her to continue.

"You think I don't know about the gambling rings? The ill-gotten rations? That incident in Cargo Bay three?" She raised an eyebrow and he hung his head a little.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" he asked.

"Truth of the matter is, you help keep morale up," she said. "And if I stopped you, you'd find some even sneakier way of continuing and it'd be that much harder to monitor the situation."

"You are… some kind of woman," he said, smiling.

"Eat your eggs, Tom. I want us to work a full shift today."

"Aye," he said, but he filled her plate before serving himself anyway.

oooo

Janeway decided to take a water shower instead of a sonic one. She hadn't taken a real bath since her new house guest had moved in and figured her rations account could handle it. For the first time in months, her muscles didn't feel like steel beneath her skin and the hot water only served to relax her more. She felt better than she had in ages.

What was it about human contact that improved a person's mood?

Tom, somewhere in her quarters, gave her a half-hearted agreement. She knew he didn't mean to listen in but sometimes it was hard to help. She should be embarrassed but what was the point? It wouldn't help anything.

She toweled off and could hear Tom humming in the other room. He tended to hum when working on something mechanical – shuttle repairs or building something in the holodeck. This neural link was the only reason she knew what a classic automobile was, let alone that Tom liked them. The humming continued as she slid on her uniform and poked her head out to see what, exactly, he was dismantling.

"Your replicator is finicky at best," Tom said. He'd pulled the whole interface out and was elbow deep inside the bulkhead.

"I know," she said, surveying the damage. "You noticed the eggs were a little off too?"

"A little gritty," he acknowledged.

"Maybe it's just my cooking," she joked. He looked up at this and couldn't help but smile.

"Nice look."

Her hair was still wet and tangled. It was also dampening the back of her uniform so she gathered it up in her hands self-consciously and toweled off the ends.

"I was curious," she said.

"Why didn't you call a repair team in?" he asked, turning back to the replicator.

"Didn't seem like a high priority," she said.

"Your power cell is misaligned," he said. "Probably got jarred during a battle."

"Sounds reasonable," she said. "I'm going to…"

"Yeah," he said, dismissively.

In the bathroom, she stood in front of the mirror sectioning off her hair and putting the pieces up in a bun. She was just finishing up her make-up when he came to find her. He was holding a cup of coffee and it smelled fresh. She could see the steam rising in the mirror. She finished applying her mascara with her mouth slightly parted and then turned around.

"Try it now," he said. "Don't worry, it's on me."

She smiled and took the cup. It already smelled better and when she took a sip she sighed contentedly.

"This is much better. What blend is this?" she asked.

"Something from my personal database," he said. "Guess you'll have to keep me as your pet forever."

"I'll have a certificate made up for you," she said sarcastically. "All right. It's time to go. You ready Mr. Paris?" she asked, allowing her command mask to slide into place. It seemed a little silly, standing in such close quarters in her bathroom but he understood her need to compartmentalize. He reached out and plucked a hair off her shoulder, letting it fall to the carpeted floor.

"Yes Captain," he said. "Now I'm ready."

The thought of them leaving separately occurred to her. She'd let him enter the bridge first and then come a few moments later, possibly from another entrance. Through her ready room or the conference room, perhaps. Tom laughed beside her.

"Just whom would we be fooling?" he asked.

"Good point," she asked. They were quiet on the way to the bridge. She was gathering her thoughts, switching from Kathryn to the Captain. Kathryn worried about trivial things off duty – if she'd missed her holodeck time again, if she really needed to go to sickbay or if she'd recycled that dirty dish she'd left by the window. The Captain thought about reports, strategy, morale, and always, getting home. In the turbolift, she stood with her arms crossed.

"You know," she said. "If you're going to think of me as Kathryn, you may as well call me that when we're alone."

"I don't mean to," he said, quickly.

"I know you don't," she said. "You're one of the most respectful officers I've had the pleasure of serving with. I'm just giving you permission, is all. I'd… like it."

"All right," he said. "I guess you can call me Tom."

"You're very funny," she said. "A riot."

"I try," he said. When the turbolift doors opened, she strode confidently onto the bridge, the Captain through and through.

oooo

Near the end of the bridge shift, Tom was summoned to Shuttle Bay two by Engineering. The repair team working on the Cochrane and needed his help.

"Go ahead," Chakotay said. Janeway sat in her chair and when he looked at her, she nodded her head once. Since returning to Voyager, they'd barely been in separate rooms. They hadn't yet attempted separate decks. The Bridge was on one – and the shuttle bays were both on ten.

"On my way," Tom said and let an ensign slide into his seat.

"Good luck," Janeway said softly. It was an odd thing to say for someone going to lend a hand with a fussy shuttle but he knew what she meant.

The turbo lift seemed to move too quickly and every deck that passed meant he was further away from the Captain. The pull to return to her side grew stronger and he could see in his mind her fingers gripping the arms of her seat. His scalp began to itch and then it seemed like the implant inside of him began to throb. The turbolift doors opened and he took a shaky step out. The shuttle bay was only a few meters down the corridor but he felt his knees give before he made it to the door.

In sickbay, the Doctor's console began to beep urgently.

oooo

"Just what, exactly, did you two think you were going to accomplish by doing such a thing?" the Doctor asked, exasperation evident in his voice.

"Our jobs," the Captain said.

"I told you to stay together. I told you to sleep side by side. What part of that makes you think going to separate ends of the ship was a good idea?"

"That's enough, Doc," Tom said. "Lesson learned."

"I'm sorry," he said. "My inability to solve your situation is very frustrating."

"We know you're doing your best," Janeway said, soothingly.

"If you'd been wearing your monitors you could have avoided unconsciousness," the Doctor said haughtily.

"May we go?" Janeway asked, trying to tame her hair. The Doctor had pulled all the pins out in effort to reach her implant and now he handed them to her. There wasn't a lot to do – she'd have to walk the hall with her hair down around her shoulders in a ratted mess.

"You're free to return to duty," he muttered. "Not that you care what I think."

"We have to do something about his bedside matter," Janeway snapped in the corridor but they both knew she didn't mean it.

"He tries to get his point across in, perhaps, not the best way possible," Tom said. "_You_ don't have to work with him."

"Small favors," she said.

"That you give yourself, Captain," he laughed.

"It's a gift I give to everyone else too, I assure you. I have no medical talent."

"What was that?" he asked. "Something about your sister falling out of a tree? I couldn't quite see it."

"I made her walk a quarter of a kilometer with a fractured leg," she said. "I lack medical common sense."

"You were nine," he said.

"And yet I could do quantum physics by eight," she said.

"Show off," he said.

"I told Vorik you'd help the repair team tomorrow," Janeway said. "With my supervision."

"You might have fun," he said. "Get your hands dirty."

"I get my hands plenty dirty," she said.

"Ugh, don't even think about that Macrovirus," he said. "You win. Anyway, word on the street is that Neelix is making Lasagna tonight. You hungry?"

"How do you know what he's making? How do you get the word on the street without me knowing?" she asked.

"Oh, I have my ways," he said.

oooo

That night, Janeway was less tentative about having Tom in her bed. He rolled over and faced the wall while she had her nose buried in the report Harry had turned in on the construction of Astrometrics.

"Do you think Seven is pretty?" Janeway asked, suddenly. Tom rolled over to look at her. He'd been thinking of the beach in San Francisco, the first time he'd gone surfing. He wanted to send her soothing images. Now he thought of Seven encased in tight silver, her pretty face framed by hair like silk.

"Um. Yes? Don't you?" he asked. But he had to be honest – the woman was lovely but not exactly his type.

"Yes," Janeway asked. "I think that's why Harry is having trouble working with her."

"It is," Tom clarified. "Poor Harry. Poor, poor Harry Kim." Janeway chuckled.

"Well, what is your type then? I mean, if not buxom blondes or feisty Klingons?" she pressed.

"Captain, I'm not sure…"

"Oh, I'm your Captain now?" she asked. They were in their pajamas in her bed and it did seem sort of ridiculous but Tom sometimes had problems finding the line and fell back on protocol out of habit.

"I'm not sure I have a type," he said. She scoffed. "Fine," he said. "I guess… women who like to have fun. Who have a sense of humor – intelligent, ambitious… adventurous," he said.

"A tall order," she said.

"I'm willing to wait for the right one," he said. "Nobody is perfect. I don't mind flaws."

"Hmm," she said.

"I like redheads," he said, turning back over and fluffing his pillow before lying back down. She smacked him lightly with her PADD and didn't even mind the pressure on her own arm. She thought, at first, that he was teasing her, but instead of thinking about the beach, about internal combustion engines, or flight patterns – the things he thought about when he didn't want to think about something she might see – he thought about the curve of her shoulder and the strand of hair that rested on the pale skin that was auburn in the low light. She shouldn't have asked.

"Well, goodnight," she said, and set the PADD on her nightstand. She reached over and turned off the lights manually and then tried to find a comfortable spot, their backs toward each other.

Eventually, Tom turned over and scooted toward her. He put his arm over her hip and pulled her so she was flush against him. He did it with ease, as if he'd pulled a woman to him in bed countless times, and perhaps he had but to her it was a feeling long since forgotten and she melted into him. He tucked her head under his chin.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she answered. Just right, she thought.

In the morning, she managed to untangle herself from him without waking him, a minor miracle. He was still sleeping by the time she was showered, dressed, and getting impatient for the day. Tom could be ready in twenty minutes and wanted all the sleep he could get. She couldn't begrudge him that, but it made for a boring morning. She was wondering if Tom would be offended if she put his uniform through the cleaner when Chakotay contacted her.

"Janeway here," she said, tapping her badge and keeping her voice low. The alarm in her room would wake him in five minutes but she felt like being considerate nonetheless.

"I was wondering if you'd like to get breakfast," he said.

"Oh Chakotay, I would, but Tom isn't even awake yet," she said, apologetically. She knew better than to try to make her way to the mess hall by herself.

"Step into the hallway," he said. Curious, she stepped close enough to the door to activate the sensors and it hissed open. Just outside her door in the hallway, Chakotay had set up a small table and two chairs. There were two covered trays and a small vase with a while daisy in it.

"Aww," she said, with a smile. "And what if I had turned you down?"

"I would have lived with the shame," he said, pulling out her seat for her. She sat down and he sat across from her. He pulled off the cover with a flourish and she grinned.

"I love pancakes," she said.

"I know," he grinned back.

"Thank you, Chakotay. I know this has been hard on everyone," she said, picking up her fork.

"Hard on you as well, I'd imagine," he said.

"Yes and no," she said. "Different, yes."

"Want to talk about it?" he asked. She shrugged and cut off a section of her breakfast with the side of her fork.

"I want to hear about you," she said.

"Nothing new to report there," he said. "A little busier with you on light duty, but busy is never a bad thing."

"I'm lucky to have you," she said. "And… how is B'Elanna?" Chakotay frowned.

"It's hard to say," he said. "She's hard to read when she wants to be."

"Tom doesn't want to talk to her with an audience," Janeway said. "I can't say I blame him."

"She feels neglected, I think," Chakotay said. "She and Tom have barely said two words so you two came back on board. I think she thinks she's losing him."

Janeway stared at her breakfast, prodding it with her fork quietly.

"Is she?" Chakotay asked, surprised.

"It isn't my place to say," she said.

"Huh," Chakotay said. "Well let's hope she doesn't kill him and accidentally kill you."

"Here's hoping," she agreed. "But, you know, Tom has been wonderful through this all. He's been patient and supportive. It could be a lot worse."

"Still, it will be nice once you're separated again," Chakotay said.

"If that ever happens," she said. Chakotay didn't know what to say to that.

A while later, Tom came out of Janeway's quarters and smiled at the pair.

"Hate to interrupt, but duty calls," he said. She'd known the moment he'd woken up and he'd been nice to let her have this time with Chakotay.

"Tom and I are going to work in the shuttle bay," she told him. "See you later?"

"Sure," Chakotay said.

"Thank you again," she smiled and patted Tom's arm to get him moving.

"Chakotay is so thoughtful," Tom said, and she glanced at him.

"Is that jealousy I'm feeling, Lieutenant?" she asked, teasingly.

"No," he answered. "Jealous? Of him? I think not."

"I know you aren't the best of friends, but he _is_ my friend," she said.

"Of course," he agreed. She caught a few more choice words from him – boring, brooding, and emotional among them but decided that his juvenile thoughts were his own.

In the shuttle bay, the repair team greeted Tom and the Captain more formally than they would have if Tom had been alone, but she was used to it. Tom didn't hesitate in getting started on the repairs and Janeway went over to the abandoned console and decided she could work here as easily as she could anywhere else. Fifteen minutes later, Tom called her over to where he was.

"Could you help me?" he asked.

"Sure," she said. "What do you need?"

"I can't quiet explain to Ensign Brooks how I want this held and I think if I just…"

She could already read his mind – understand what he wanted and how the repair needed to play out.

"I see," she said. "Hang on." She pushed up her sleeves while Ensign Brooks stared. It was different seeing Tom and Janeway close up, rather than just hearing about rumors and gossip. Did the implant really connect them? Did it truly force them to keep close quarters? Could the actually read one another's mind? It seemed to Brooks that they were having a conversation without words. Tom would glance up at her and she'd adjust herself accordingly.

"I think I've got it," Tom said, reaching in with his free hand to alter something. The odd thing was, Ensign Brooks saw it on Janeway's face before Tom's. Something was going to go wrong.

The flair of energy hit Janeway but they both flew back from the open console, landing on the hard shuttle bay floor with a sickening thud.

"Brooks to Sickbay. Medical Emergency in Shuttle Bay Two!


	4. Chapter 4

Tom was dead. At least, he thought he was. He'd never been dead before so he had no basis of comparison, but there was nothing – no movement, no light, no voice in his head. Kathryn was gone – maybe she was dead too. Maybe he'd find her in the afterlife.

Maybe the afterlife was only this nothingness.

"Wake up, Mr. Paris."

Tom really hoped the Doctor wasn't in the afterlife. If the Doctor was, however, Tom had made one too many mistakes along the way and was now to be punished eternally.

He tried to move and found that he could, slightly, now. He tried to open his eyes and found he could do that too. So not dead, then. Just severely injured. He tried to remember what had happened.

The power relay had overloaded.

"Kathryn?" he asked, coughing. She'd taken the brunt of the trauma and he still couldn't hear her. Was she unconscious?

"Right here, Tom." Her voice was soothing and familiar and he felt her hand on his chest, her palm flat over his heart. He blinked, trying to clear his sight and saw her leaning over him, her brow furrowed with concern.

"I can't… hear you," he said.

"Your little engineering accident solved that particular problem," the Doctor said.

"The implants?" Tom asked.

"The surge short circuited them," Janeway said. "The Doctor removed them both."

"And you're okay?" he asked.

"Just fine," she said. "Been awake for an hour."

"You were a little more difficult," the Doctor said. "The brain is a tricky organ and yours was particularly delicate."

"Take it as a compliment," Janeway said. Tom tried to sit up and she helped him, braced her foot against the base of the bed to offer him some leverage.

"I can't believe a bolt of plasma energy didn't kill us," Tom said, rubbing his head. The implant was in fact missing.

"Oh, it did," the Doctor said. "It completely rebooted your brain. When I revived you, the implant simply did not reactivate. From there, I merely had to remove it."

"It's a lot to take in," Janeway said, noticing how Tom paled a bit at the news of their brief deaths.

"You both need rest," the Doctor said.

"This time, I'm inclined to agree," Tom said. His body felt stiff and sore.

"I'd like to talk to Tom for a few minutes alone," Janeway said.

"Of course, Captain," the Doctor said and went into the Bio Lab to give them some privacy.

"Are you really all right?" Janeway asked, her eyes searching his intently.

"I think so," he said. "I don't know yet."

"What don't you know?" she pressed.

"It's just… I thought I'd be happier when this was all over but now I feel empty, mostly," he said.

"I understand," she said. "Me too. It'll just take getting used too."

"I guess," he said. "What are you thinking right now?"

She smiled.

"I was thinking that there isn't anyone on this ship who knows me better than you do, now," she admitted.

"I guess that goes both ways," he said.

"I guess it does," she whispered. "I know you like old cars, I know you love to laugh and prefer real alcohol to synthetic…"

"Who doesn't?"

"I know you have a good heart and a rocky past and that you're loyal and warm and a fine, fine man." She touched his shoulder, gave it a squeeze.

"Thank you, Kathryn," he said.

"We should get some sleep," she said, taking her hand away. "Should be easier now."

He caught her wrist.

"Don't you want to know what I've learned about you?" he asked. She hesitated, but gave in with a shallow nod.

"You're funny," he said. "You're ambitious and resourceful and have the energy of a teenager."

"You should've seen me as a teenager," she laughed. "I slept three hours a night."

"You love us," he said. "Unconditionally. From the senior officers to the people you rarely interact with, you would die for any of us."

"You could say that of any Captain," she pointed out.

"You love coffee ice cream, you don't really like cheese. You spend far longer on your hair each morning that you'd care to admit, your favorite color is yellow which you're strangely embarrassed about…"

"Officially, it's blue," she said with a lopsided smile.

"And at night, you dream of cornfields," he said. "Running through them."

"All true," she admitted wryly.

"We're friends now, right?" Tom asked.

"Tom, we were always friends," she said.

"Not like this," he said. "I just mean… will you still talk to me now that we're not connected?"

"Hey," she said. "There are other ways to be connected to someone without an invasive implant." He raised his eyebrow. "I didn't mean that!"

"Sure," he grinned.

"What I mean to say is, nothing can take away the experience we've shared," she said.

"Promise?" he asked.

"Cross my heart," she said. She reached out and squeezed his fingers with her own.

oooo

Harry grinned when the Captain came onto the bridge and his smile seemed to double, somehow, when Tom jogged on after her.

"Morning, Harry," Tom said, passing the ops station.

"Morning, Tom," Harry said. "Good morning, Captain."

"Hey, hey, the gangs all here," she said, smiling. "What do you say we try to get back into the swing of things?"

"Sounds good," Harry said.

"How are you feeling?" Chakotay asked, as Janeway sat down in her chair.

"Just fine, thanks," she said.

"No more voices in your head?" he teased.

"The sanatorium said I was all better," she said. Tom chuckled at his station.

"Eavesdropping, Mr. Paris?" Chakotay asked, his tone light but his gaze steady.

"Yes, sir," he said. "Have to do it the old fashioned way." Tom didn't have to share a neural link with Janeway to know there was a smile on her face.

oooo

"So, what are we having for lunch?" Tom asked. He'd caught up with her in the long corridor outside of the mess hall. She'd been thinking about just grabbing something to go and eating in her ready room. With Tom she'd been eating three square meals a day and she wasn't sure how much longer she could take all the food.

"Coffee a la ready room?" she said.

"Points for efficiency but I'm going to have to dock you on nutritional value," he said.

"I am swamped, you know," she said. "And in all seriousness, I'm not sure my waistline can stand your idea of nutritional value."

"Your waistline is lovely," Tom said. "I smelled bread baking earlier. I make a mean sandwich."

"I'll make you a deal," she said. "You round up lunch and meet me in my ready room?"

"Lunch with the Captain in her private ready room?" he asked. "My, I am moving up in the world."

"Don't push it," she said.

"You have a deal. I'll even bring the coffee."

Janeway turned around and headed back for the lift, trying to keep the smile off her face. She thought that the first day after they'd had their minds to themselves she wouldn't have seen Tom at all. Instead, he was doing his best to keep up their routine. Maybe he'd been serious when he'd said he'd wanted to remain a confidant for her. Could she do it? Could she keep a friend on a ship where she was the highest-ranking officer? She had Chakotay, but they never shared a meal or spent time on the holodeck without talking about ship's business. With Tom, everything else just seemed to fade.

She was at her desk when the chime rang.

"Come in, Tom," she called, not taking her eyes off her screen. He didn't mind – just set the tray of food and coffee he had on her coffee table.

"I don't know if we're ever going to get that shuttle off the ground," she said, sighing and looking up.

"Not if it keeps trying to kill us," he said. "Come eat, Captain."

She walked over and sat next to him on the couch. The sandwich did look good and when he poured her a cup of coffee, she felt her mood improve considerably.

"Thanks," she murmured. They ate quietly for a while. He seemed content to sit and watch the stars while she divided her attention between her sandwich and a PADD.

"I was thinking that I could just rebuild the impulse engines," Tom said, finally.

"Could you?" she asked.

"It would take some time and probably more than the Cochran's fair share of energy, but frankly the shuttles could all use a serious overhaul," he said.

"Write me up a proposal, Lieutenant and we'll see," she said.

"Yes, Captain," he said, grinning.

"Tom, I… I wanted to ask you something," she said, her tone changing. He nodded. "Have you spoken with B'Elanna yet?"

His gaze dropped to his lap.

"I'm meeting her tonight," he said.

"And what will you say?" she asked.

"Somehow I have the feeling you know exactly what I'm going to say," he said.

"Perhaps," she said. "But you and B'Elanna are both extremely important to this ship, this crew. I need to know you're going to be able to work together."

"I understand," he said.

"I know you, Tom," she warned. "You can't charm your way out of this one."

"Believe me, if charm was going to work on B'Elanna, we wouldn't be having this conversation," he said.

"I won't be charmed either," she said, suddenly. "It's honesty or nothing with me."

"Understood," he said. "You'll have it."

"Good," she said. "Thank you for lunch."

"Anytime," he said.

"And Tom?" she said. "Let me know how things go this evening. As your friend… not your captain."

"I will," he promised.

oooo

Janeway had been putting off going to bed for almost forty-five minutes. She'd finished a stack of work, she'd disinfected her bathroom, and she'd even reorganized her closet now that Tom wasn't storing a stack of uniforms on one of her shelves. She really thought he would have contacted her by now but she'd heard nothing.

Sighing, and mentally berating herself for even thinking about it, she took off her robe and climbed into bed, turning the lights down. She punched her pillow and tried to find a comfortable spot. The first night with peace and quiet and she'd hardly slept a wink. Now, here she was on night two and sleep was proving just as elusive. Her mind seemed undisciplined with no one around to judge her thoughts and her bed seemed big and empty.

Still, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths. Tom would be on the bridge in the morning and she'd see both him and B'Elanna in the noon senior staff briefing. She'd know soon enough.

Her door chimed. She got out of bed and threw on her robe. She rushed to the door and pressed the button to open it manually. Tom stood on the other side, head hung.

"Hi," she said, sounding breathless. He raised his head and she gasped and stepped aside so he could walk in far enough that the doors closed behind him. He was sporting a serious black eye and it seemed to be darkening in front of her. His eye was nearly swollen shut. "What happened?"

"I got punched in the face," he said.

"Clearly," she said. "I thought you were going to be able to coexist!"

"We will," he said. "We are. Frankly, I deserved this. I'm here to see my friend, not the Captain. I'm not asking you to put her on report."

"If that's what you want," she said. "Come on, sit down. I'll get a dermal regenerator."

"I can go to sickbay in the morning," he said.

"No," she said. "That has to hurt like hell." She got the regenerator out of her bathroom and pushed his shoulder so he sat on the couch. She grabbed his chin to hold his face still and ran the regenerator over his eye. The swelling reduced and the purple faded to a sickening yellow but it had to feel better. "Well," she said. "I'm not a doctor."

"No, it helped," he said.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"I was honest. I told her that while I valued her friendship, I wasn't in love with her," he said.

"And then she punched you?" she asked.

"Not yet," he said. "She accused me of lying and called me some choice Klingon insults. I agreed that I should've been more honest from the start and said that I was sorry."

"And then she punched you?"

"No, then she blamed you," Tom said.

"Me?" Janeway asked.

"She blamed my change of heart on the implants and called me a suck up and said that you were blind to all my flaws," Tom said. "I told her that it was nice to have someone believe in me and that I didn't have to constantly prove myself to you. I said that it wasn't your fault I felt the way that I did, but our time together inspired my honesty."

"Oh, Tom, you didn't," she said.

"And then she punched me," he said.

"Well, yeah!" Janeway said, crossing her arms. "Way to drag me into this!"

"You were the one who told me to be honest!" he said.

"But I didn't say to throw me out into space!" she said. "B'Elanna and I have a rocky enough working relationship as is without her thinking that I stole her boyfriend."

"That you what?" Tom said. "I didn't mean to imply… I mean I didn't leave B'Elanna because I wanted… I can't…"

"Tom, Tom," she said. "It's all right. It's fine. We'll just deal with this in the morning."

"Right," he said. "Now if I can find my bed I might just live until then."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"My face wasn't the only thing B'Elanna broke," he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "My mirror, anything that could be snapped or shattered in my quarters… she had a field day."

"All right," Janeway said. "Let me get your pillow."

"Captain I didn't mean to invite myself," he said.

"You didn't have to, I'm ordering you to stay on my couch tonight. Harry can help you clean up in the morning," she said. She retrieved his pillow and the gray blanket he'd used for the first few nights they'd been roommates. "Go brush your teeth and wash your face," she ordered. "Your toothbrush is still in there."

"Kathryn? Thank you," he said.

"What are friends for?" she asked.

oooo

"It's nearly 0200," Chakotay said. "Don't you have the early shift?"

B'Elanna stood at his door. She was somewhere between anger and disappointment – he'd seen her here before.

"Tom and I broke up," she said, her voice shaking slightly.

"Come in," Chakotay said. Inside, she paced the length of the living room, turning on her heel sharply enough that he worried for his carpet.

"He broke up with me!" she exclaimed. "Can you imagine? He has some nerve, Chakotay."

"You told me two days ago that you knew it wasn't going to last," Chakotay pointed out trying to be helpful.

"This is all her fault," B'Elanna seething, ignoring his last statement.

"Who?"

"Janeway," she spat, as if the name left a foul taste in her mouth.

"Captain Janeway," he corrected. B'Elanna didn't seem to hear him.

"I think reading her mind made him crazy! All of a sudden he wanted to be _honest _about his _feelings_. Who does that?" she said, looking up at him, finally expecting a response.

"Tom said he had feelings for the Captain?" Chakotay asked.

"Are you even listening to me?" B'Elanna asked. "He didn't have to say it! Every time he said her name, he got all soft in the eyes. He used to… at least I thought he used to feel that way about me." She sat next to him on the couch with a thump.

"Even if Tom does have romantic feelings toward the Captain, there's no way she returns them," Chakotay said, trying to sound confident.

"She's gotten to you too, hasn't she?" B'Elanna asked. "What's with that woman? Evil succubus."

"All right, I know you're upset, but she's still the Captain. Are we going to have problems?"

"No," B'Elanna said. "I want to get back to the Alpha Quadrant more than I want to sabotage her happiness. Lucky for her."

"Good," Chakotay said. "I think in the morning you'll find you blew these allegations out of proportion."

"Oh yeah?" she said, shooting to her feet. "Computer, Locate Lieutenant Paris."

"Lieutenant Paris is in Captain Janeway's quarters," the computer responded promptly and without emotion.

Chakotay couldn't help letting his mouth fall open.

oooo

"Can I talk to you?" Chakotay said, leaning over the arm of his chair. They were already close, but somehow the acoustics of the bridge made everything easily overheard. He didn't want Tuvok's disapproving glare or Tom's curious over the shoulder glance.

"Sure," she said. "I'm meeting Seven in fifteen minutes so can we make it quick?"

"Of course. I was hoping…" He nodded his head toward her ready room.

"All right. Mr. Tuvok, you have the bridge." In the ready room she stood with her arms crossed.

"Did you hear about Tom and B'Elanna?" he asked, trying to keep it light. Her eyes narrowed slightly – they didn't usually indulge in gossip without a façade.

"She gave him a pretty good shiner," Janeway said. "Personnel is your department, Commander, I'm counting on you to smooth this out."

"Of course," Chakotay said. "Though I have to say, Love Triangles aren't exactly my strong suit. I think I'll be playing this one by ear."

"Triangle?" she asked.

"Well, B'Elanna seems to be under the impression that you are the cause of their break-up," Chakotay said. "Surely Tom told you that."

"Why do you assume Lieutenant Paris told me anything?" she asked.

"He was with you pretty late last night," Chakotay accused.

"Are you checking up on me?" she asked, horrified.

"B'Elanna told me," he said, which wasn't exactly a lie.

"For your information, Commander, Lieutenant Paris spent the night on my couch because our chief engineer demolished his quarters," Janeway said.

"So you're not…?" he said.

"Tom and I are friends," Janeway said. "And not that it's any of your business, but Tom is a good man. He has a good heart and he would never betray anyone by cheating."

"You seem sure about that," Chakotay said.

"Of course I'm sure," she said. "I could read his mind, remember?"

"Right," he said. How could he forget?

"I'm sorry your friend got hurt, Chakotay, but we have too much to do on this ship to deal with bruised feelings and jealousy," she said.

"Seven of Nine to Janeway." She rolled her eyes and tapped her badge.

"Janeway here."

"You are due in Cargo Bay two, did you forget?" Seven said.

"On my way right now, Janeway out," she said and ended the link. "Chakotay, I don't really want to talk about this again. I have faith that Tom and B'Elanna can work out their differences."

"Yes Captain," he said. She paused at the door, just outside of the sensor's reach.

"I think," she said carefully. "I suspect anyway, that this is more about you and me. I don't need this right now, all right?"

She didn't wait for his response.

oooo

She was late to see Seven and thusly was late to Senior Staff. When she rushed into the briefing room, everyone was already in their seats.

"Sorry everyone," she said. "Let's get started. Tuvok, why don't you go first?" She took her seat as Tuvok started to report on the security status. She looked around the room, taking in each strained face. Tom and B'Elanna were pointedly not looking at each other and Chakotay was also avoiding her gaze. When she caught B'Elanna's gaze, B'Elanna looked away quickly, frowning. When she caught Tom's gaze, however, he gave her a small smile. She almost smiled back, but B'Elanna's eyes were burning on her and so she turned back to Tuvok, trying to pay attention.

When everyone was dismissed, Tom hung back a little.

"Something on your mind?" she asked him.

"I just wanted to thank you for letting me crash last night," Tom said.

"Any time," she said.

"I have to admit, I haven't been sleeping well since the implants were removed and it feels odd when you aren't around," he said.

"I know what you mean," she said. "We'll just make an effort to see each other at least once a day off duty, all right?"

"Agreed," he said.

oooo

After her shift, she went to sickbay. It was odd, walking to sickbay without an injury or a summons, but Tom was working there and she wanted to catch him before he got off shift. She wanted to ask his opinion on something.

"Good evening, Captain," the Doctor said. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I'm here for Mr. Paris," she said.

"He's in the Bio Lab," the Doctor said. She murmured her thanks and crossed the sickbay.

"Tom?" she called. He appeared from the storage closet.

"You come to spring me?" he asked hopefully.

"You only have seven minutes left," she said.

"And they're seven minutes I'm never getting back," he groaned.

"I have some holodeck time," she said. "I was wondering if you'd come with me?"

"Sure," he said. "We haven't played pool in a while."

"Actually, I had something else in mind," she said.

"I don't care if you want dress me up as Mr. Darcy, get me out of here six minutes early and I'm there."

"Officially, I don't condone this," she said. "Doctor? Do you mind if I take Lieutenant Paris a few minutes early?"

"Can I say no?" the Doctor called.

"Not really," Janeway said.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Paris," the Doctor said. Tom rushed out of the door through the Bio Lab, hoping that Janeway was keeping up because he wasn't waiting around for either of them to change their minds. When he finally looked over his shoulder, several seconds later, she was there.

"So," he said, as if he hadn't just fled sickbay like the place was on fire. "What's the program?"

"Patience," she said. She would tell him, but she was pretty sure he wasn't going to like it and she had her mind set. Outside the holodeck, she used the console to activate the program manually and they entered together.

"NO!" he cried.

"Tom, come on, we had a deal," she said.

"This was underhanded, even for you," he said.

She stood and surveyed the hair salon that was before them.

"Maybe," she agreed. "But it's time. I'm too old for all this hair and I need you to be honest about how it looks before I face the crew."

"Fine," he said. The holographic stylist waved her into the chair and dramatically covered her with a sheet to protect her uniform.

"How short would you like it, Captain Janeway?" the hologram said.

"Short," she said. "Maybe… a bob?" In the mirror, she could see Tom wince but he held his tongue.

"Of course," the stylist said. "Let's go get you washed."

Thirty minutes later, Janeway had lost several inches of hair. She was staring at herself in the mirror shocked.

"Oh my God," she said in a small voice.

"It looks really great," Tom said.

"What did I _do_?" she asked him, turning her wide eyes to his face.

"Kathryn, it looks fine," he assured her. "I like it!"

"It's so… short," she said.

"The Doctor can always help you grow it back," Tom said. "Remember? Like with Seven?"

"Yes," she said. "Let's go right now."

"Why don't you give it the night," he said. "I think once the shock wears off you'll like it."

"I look old," she groaned.

"Not true," he said. "It's a smart cut. Come on, let's get some dinner. On my rations."

"Why didn't you stop me?" she raved. "You're my guy, Tom, I needed you to be my guy!"

"I'm your guy?" he asked. The stylist who'd been impassively watching this exchange abruptly turned around and walked into the back of the salon where he must've deactivated. They watched him go and then resumed their conversation.

"You're the one who is honest with me, who doesn't stand on ceremony when the truth needs to be told," she said. "Well, you and Seven, but you tend to have a little more tact."

"A little more?" he said, hurt.

"Well."

"You want me to be honest with you?" he asked. She steeled herself and nodded, once. "I was prepared to hate it, but in fact it suits you. There. The truth. You've managed to surprise me once again, Kathryn Janeway."

She turned back to the mirror and studied herself again. She lifted her chin a little and tilted her head. The hologram had cut the bob to follow the lines of her jaw and it did make her look more elegant, somehow, the way a long mane of hair could never accomplish.

"All right," she said. "It stays."

"Come on," he said. "I'm going to replicate us a bottle of wine at the very least."

"You can afford it, too," she said. He managed to blush a bit – apparently she knew about the betting pool concerning Harry and Seven. Harry had been doing his best to avoid the ex-drone but had finally been ordered by Chakotay to work with her and hadn't been able to talk his way out of it. Tom had wisely placed the bet at three and half days and won the pot.

"I'd always planned on sharing it with you," he said. They headed for the door.

"Wait," she said and rushed back to the chair. From the large pile of hair on the floor, she picked out a lock and put it in her pocket. He looked at her oddly. "Something my mother did when I was a child – any time we got a substantial haircut, she kept a lock of it for posterity. I'll save it for her."

"That's sweet," Tom said. "I guess I should get one too, for witnessing the main event."

"I guess you should," she said, leaning over and studying the pile again. She found a lock that was particularly red and retrieved it. He reached out his hand but she didn't give it to him. "All in due time, Mr. Paris."

Since he promised to buy dinner, she followed him dutifully to his quarters. They passed a few crewmen on the way and everyone had smiled at her and two of them had even commented that they liked her hair.

"My quarters are still traumatized," he warned, palming the door open. "I've cleaned up the broken glass and things but… well."

She looked around and noticed what he meant. His desk had been pushed awkwardly against the bulkhead, his chair trapped beneath it. It looked like one of the legs had snapped clean off. She could see through the bathroom where the mirror was missing. In the corner of the room was a pillow with the stuffing spilling out and the dining table was dented on one side.

"How did she even do that?" Janeway asked, running her hand over the indentation.

"I don't know," he said. "I don't think I want to, actually."

"I can't report her myself, Tom, but this kind of destruction should really be noted," she said.

"No. I mean, it was either this or the rest of my face and I think she let me off easy."

Janeway made a disapproving sound low in her throat.

"At first, all that piss and vinegar was exciting but then it was just exhausting. Always defending myself, putting out fires."

"Always negotiating for the upper hand," she murmured.

"Exactly," he said. "No easy rapport."

"Relationships aren't easy," she said. "You have to work for them."

"I understand," he said. "But I also understand the difference between honest hard work and constant triage."

"Touché," she said. "Now, I believe I was promised wine?


	5. Chapter 5

Tom got to sickbay on time, knowing that skiving off the end of his last shift would make the Doctor ever more watchful. Sure, the Captain was the point at the top of the good excuses pyramid, but still. The Doctor was the Doctor and Tom had never even seen his good side.

The Captain had left his quarters just after 2300, her cheeks rosy from wine and her sides sore from laughing. He loved to hear her laugh and had spent the evening trying to get her to do just that. Her company eased the pain of his break-up, even if it was in his best interest. The Captain seemed to make everything easier just by being in the room.

"Mr. Paris," the Doctor said, surprised. "You're on time!"

"Actually, I'm almost 45 seconds early," he said. "Are you proud of me?"

"I've never been prouder," the Doctor said. "You just missed the Captain. She left something for you on your work station."

"What is it?" he asked.

"How should I know? I'm a Doctor, not a snoop," the Doctor sniffed. Tom moved to the Bio Lab where he'd spent the last three shifts cataloging specimens from the last planet they'd stopped at. On his station was a metal case, something that would house medical or engineering supplies but this kit was generic – without the colored strip or numerical designation that informed the user of what would be inside. Curious, he opened the case and let his face breakout into a wide grin.

Inside was a curl of red hair tied together with a small length of yellow ribbon.

oooo

"I wish you'd just tell me the truth," Harry said petulantly.

"The truth is I'm tired of you asking," Tom said, pushing his tray away from himself.

"Tom!"

"What do you want from me Harry? I've told you everything!"

"I didn't even know you were having serious problems with B'Elanna and then suddenly I hear you're broken up? From Seven of Nine?"

"Ha, I won that pool, you know," Tom said smugly. "And I can't believe Seven was engaging in irrelevant gossip with you."

"Well, she wasn't… exactly," Harry said. "I maybe mentioned the four of us getting dinner together and she informed me of your break-up."

"Aw, Harry, I'm sorry," Tom said.

"So who is it?" Harry prodded.

"Who is who?"

"The other woman!" Harry exclaimed.

"Do you really think so little of me?" Tom asked, wounded.

"No, I just thought…"

"Janeway to Paris." Tom's chirping badge interrupted their conversation.

"Paris here," he answered.

"Will you meet me in Shuttle Bay Two?" she asked. "I have an idea."

"On my way," he said and tapped his badge. "Sorry Harry, duty calls."

Harry watched him go, staring at the door long after Tom had disappeared through it.

"Something the matter, Ensign?" Neelix said, refilling his coffee cup.

"No," Harry murmured. "It's just… no, nothing. Thanks, Neelix."

oooo

Chakotay sat in his chair on the bridge. He was overseeing the Gamma shift. Janeway wasn't due on the bridge until morning but it wasn't like her not to appear at least once during his shift.

"Tuvok, I have to run to my office for something. You have the bridge," he said.

"Yes sir," Tuvok said and walked away from his station to take the Captain's chair. In Chakotay's office, he sat at his desk and sighed. He had a report to bring back to the bridge with him, but were he to be honest with himself, it could've waited until the end of the shift.

"Computer," he said, feeling the flush of guilt. "Locate Captain Janeway."

"Captain Janeway is in Shuttle Bay two," the computer responded.

"Computer," he said again. The computer chirped, acknowledging his voice recognition. "Locate Lieutenant Paris."

"Lieutenant Paris is in Shuttle Bay two."

So there it was. In the last several months, he'd felt a growing distance between the Captain and himself. Once, he could see himself with no one else… Janeway seemed to be the perfect woman. She was fiery, intelligent, and warm-hearted. They seemed to compliment one another in both their personalities and command styles. It had seemed so easy, so clear. But, as their journey lengthened, that easy friendship had begun to change and grow. He had hoped it would grow into something like love, but instead it had taken an unexpected turn. Instead of leaning on him, she'd begun to rely on more members of the senior staff. Tuvok had always been her closest advisor and had continued to be. She'd given Harry more responsibilities but had kept a close eye on them as he had struggled to keep up. Even Neelix had gotten more of her time.

Then, when she'd brought Seven on board, they'd disagreed so thoroughly that any last vestiges of what she'd felt for him during the time on New Earth had seemed to evaporate. They were still friends, still _good_ friends, but the path ahead had curved.

The Doctor's report on Janeway and Paris had mentioned that they'd been chosen as the two most important crewmembers. That had stung as well. And when they had gotten back on board… well.

"Chakotay to Janeway," he said, unable to stand it.

"Go ahead, Commander," she replied promptly.

"I have the monthly rosters for you to authorize," he said. "Just wondering if you were going to stop by."

"Oh, I can do it in the morning, can't I?" she asked. "Leave it in the ready room."

"I can bring it to you, if it's easier," Chakotay offered.

"It isn't necessary," she said. "I promise to do it first thing tomorrow. Janeway out."

Chakotay sighed and tossed the PADD onto his desk. The loud clattering of metal on metal somehow suited his mood.

oooo

Paris was playing pool in Sandrine's. The French bar program had fallen out of vogue on the ship but he still liked it and now was running it privately. When he ran the program publicly, there were a few alterations – the holo-characters tended to keep their hands to themselves more for one. The bar wasn't filled with as much smoke and every drop of alcohol was synthetic.

When he ran it privately, however, those things weren't as true.

He'd deleted the characters, however. He didn't feel like talking or spurning advances. He actually felt like being alone. He'd spent the day in sickbay and that much time with the Doctor could drive anyone to isolation. It was a rare day that he didn't have at least some bridge duty, but today, it had happened. He also hadn't seen Janeway all day. She hadn't been at breakfast, which wasn't unusual and he'd been late to lunch. He'd looked for her at dinner but she'd been absent then as well.

Maybe it was a good thing. He'd been spending a lot of time with her and perhaps a break would give him some perspective. Friendship was one thing, but when he wanted to spend all of his time with one woman, it tended to mean something else.

He sunk a striped ball in the side pocket and paused to chalk his cue.

He only had fifteen minutes left on the holodeck. He would finish his game and then return to his quarters. Maybe a full night of sleep would be a good thing.

Hours later he was asleep when he felt the ship shudder. His eyes flew open and it was only a second before Janeway's voice filtered through the comm. system.

"Senior officers, report to the bridge!"

He didn't even have time to change. Instead he jumped into his boots and threw on a robe before rushing out of the door. It wouldn't be the first time everyone arrived on the bridge in their pajamas in the middle of the night.

Tom was the last to arrive but his quarters were several decks away. He took his chair, and started scanning the alien ship that was firing on them. Janeway had managed half her uniform – she had her turtleneck and pants on, but her hair was pretty mussed.

"Report," she barked as Voyager shook with another volley.

"Shields at 76 percent," Tuvok stated.

"Why are they firing?" Tom asked.

"We trespassed in their space," Chakotay said.

"Tom, can you get us out of here?" she asked. "At least until we can map out just exactly where their space is?"

"Aye," he said. Something was wrong. "I can't get a stable warp field but I have impulse."

"Do it," she said. As soon as Voyager began to retreat the firing stopped. Janeway sighed and rubbed her face. "All right. Harry, figure out their boarders, please."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said.

"It's like diplomacy doesn't even exist in this quadrant," Chakotay grumbled.

"No one wants to talk," Janeway agreed. "Tom, when Harry finishes his scans, let's you and I find an alternate route, hmm?"

"Sure," he said.

"Until then, move us a safe distance away," she said.

Tom met the Captain and Seven in the conference room. Seven already had a map of the area up on the display panel and she and Janeway had their heads bent over the space.

"Reporting for duty, Ma'am," he said. She glanced at him briefly.

"Good," she said. "What do you got, Tom?"

"I've come up with a few alternatives but I can't say you're going to like them," he said, walking over to them. Janeway stepped aside to let him stand between Seven and her self. He entered them into the computer and watched the flight paths emerge onto the screen.

"This looks like the safest route," Janeway said, pointing to a green line.

"I agree," he said.

"But not the most efficient," Seven said. "This one is." She pointed to a red one.

"That one takes us awfully close to the boarder," Tom said. "Plus flying through that anomaly could be hard on the shields."

"It will also cut a week off our journey," Seven pointed out. Tom looked to Janeway who was studying the screen intently.

"I'd rather play it safe this time," Janeway said. "I'm going with Tom's route."

"Of course you are," Seven said harshly. "Your desire for him is clouding your judgment."

Janeway and Tom both turned to stare at her. Seven's face was flushed with anger. Tom was surprised by Seven's words but Janeway's expression remained neutral. She was more used to Seven's socially inappropriate outbursts.

"Seven, you are crossing a line," Janeway said, her voice steely. "My feelings for Lieutenant Paris have nothing to do with my decision. Efficiency is important but nothing is more important than the safety of the crew. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Captain," Seven said.

"Dismissed," Janeway said and Seven turned sharply and stalked out of the room.

"That was…" Tom trailed off. He wasn't sure what it was.

"She's adjusting," Janeway allowed.

"Is she?" Tom asked. "Are you?"

"I never said liberating a Borg was going to be a cakewalk," she said, sinking into a seat.

"I'm sure Seven just said that to get under your skin," Tom said. Janeway scoffed.

"Seven is capable of a lot of things but lying is not one of them," Janeway said. Tom sat down next to her.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"I'm saying I'm doing the best that I can," she said. "You and I have an odd situation and I thought that after we had the implants removed things would go back to normal except normal now is something different so… I'm doing the best that I can."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "I am too."

"Then there we are," she said and slapped the table as she stood up. He jumped to his feet too. "What do you say you go fly my ship for a while, hmm?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said again and she patted his back as they walked out onto the bridge.

oooo

Tom and Harry were in the holodeck. Tom had made an effort to invite Harry to the holodeck, to spend time with him and him alone. They were golfing in the Pebble Beach program and the sea breeze felt brisk and refreshing. They were on the 5th hole before Tom worked up the nerve to talk to Harry about the Captain.

"I'm going to tell you the truth," Tom said. Harry, who'd been about to putt, pulled back his putter and turned to Tom, his face open with curiosity.

"What?" he said.

"Something happened in the briefing room today," Tom said.

"We didn't have a staff meeting today," Harry said, turning back to his ball. Then he froze. "Wait, you and the Captain were mapping the new course adjustments."

"Yes."

"You're saying something happened between you and the Captain in the briefing room?"

"Seven was there too," Tom said. "She said something… odd."

"Seven says a lot of weird things," Harry said.

"This was…"

"Tom!"

"She accused the Captain of siding with me because she _desired_ me," Tom said.

"And what did she say to that?" Harry asked.

"She told Seven that her decision had to do with the welfare of the crew and dismissed her," Tom said.

"That's it? What did she say to you?" Harry was now rapt, hanging on every gossipy word.

"She said that she was doing her best," Tom said.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked.

"It means we're both doing our best with a strange situation," Tom said. "Harry… this is the Captain. I can't… and yet it's like… my whole life has been connected in some way to this woman and is it really so strange that I would develop…?"

Tom rubbed his head and sat down in the golf cart, feeling suddenly exhausted and a little scared.

"I am in way over my head," Tom said, finally. Harry sat next to him, the game all but forgotten.

"We're going to be on this ship a long time, probably," Harry said. Tom looked at him, slightly surprised. Harry was the type to always hold hope in his heart, always clinging to the notion that they'd find some way home while he was still a young man. It was a big deal that Harry was admitting out loud that this might really take a long time.

"Yeah."

"If you… have feelings for her, you should go for it," he said.

"If it were anyone else, I would," he said. "But this is Kathryn Janeway."

"And if it were anyone else, I'd tell them that they were crazy. But you're Tom Paris." Harry smiled. "The old Tom Paris wouldn't hesitate."

"The old Tom Paris was an idiot," Tom said.

"Well, there is that," Harry said. "But the new Tom Paris isn't."

"We shall see about that," Tom said. "What, are we gonna stand around all day are or are you gonna hit that ball?"

oooo

The part of Tom that wasn't an idiot told him to avoid Janeway for a few days. He needed some time to think, to decide what he wanted to do. He couldn't avoid her completely, however, as they had bridge shifts but she seemed to know that he needed some space and let him be. They were all on high alert anyway for potential threats or aliens on this new flight plan. The bridge shifts were never uneventful and adding sickbay on to his duty roster never made for boring days.

He did most of his thinking in bed, tossing and turning late at night.

What if he did approach Janeway? Harry was right, it was a long journey and he really didn't want to face several decades of awkwardness. The thing was, he'd never felt awkward around the Captain before and even now when they were creating distance on purpose, things didn't feel _awkward_, just contemplative. She still greeted him warmly when he entered the bridge, still smiled at him in passing if they crossed in the corridors. She was telling him she understood.

After four days of this, though, apparently she was tired of waiting. He was just getting ready for bed when she contacted him.

"Janeway to Paris."

He knew she was off-duty and it was late for a business call. Her voice sounded soft and strained from a day of ordering people about.

"Paris here," he said, holding his comm. badge in his hand.

"I know it's late, but do you think you could stop by my quarters?" she asked.

"Of course," he said. "On my way." He put his boots back on and shrugged into his uniform jacket. He didn't zip it, however, and attached the comm. badge to his gray turtleneck instead, letting the lapel of the jacket cover it slightly. Soon, he stood outside of her quarters, waiting for her to admit him,

"Come in," she said and he stepped through the door. She was in her uniform as well, sitting at her desk looking busy and a little tired.

"Good evening," he said. She looked up at him and smiled softly.

"Hi Tom," she said. "I just… I wanted to let you know that I understand."

"What?" Even knowing her as well as he did, the comment was vague at best.

"I said we were searching for normal the other day and I truly believe we can get back to the way things were before the implants. You've proven that this week," she said. "Maybe it's for the best."

"I didn't mean to prove anything," Tom said quickly. "I was just… thinking."

"Still," she said. "I don't want either of us dwelling on Seven's speculation."

"I don't think of it as speculation, Captain," he said. She raised an eyebrow.

"Are you telling me how I feel?"

"I'm telling you how I feel," he said. "I do desire you."

"Tom, I don't know what to say," she said.

"I desire for you to be my Captain," he said. "I desire for you to be my best friend."

"I see," she said. She wore the mask well but he saw her face fall a bit.

"Do you?" he asked.

"I think so," she confirmed. But he knew she didn't quite. He decided to try a different tactic. He wasn't much of a storyteller – that was Chakotay's department but he knew that Chakotay told her a lot of stories and she seemed to respond.

"Have you ever read the Bible?" he asked, sitting down on her couch. She sighed and got out of her desk chair to come sit next to him.

"No," she said. "Not a lot of science in ancient religious texts."

"Maybe not, but there's a lot of beautiful poetry and imagery. My sister used to read it to me before we went to bed," he said. "One of my favorite stories was about Jesus and his friend Peter."

"All right," she allowed.

"Jesus had died," Tom said. "And then had come back from the dead."

"Borg nano probes?" she asked, smirking.

"Yeah, they show up in the Bible a lot," Tom said. "Anyway, Peter and his other friends are fishing during the night and they can't catch anything. Each time they cast their nets, they come up empty."

"There are better was to fish than with nets," Janeway said.

"Not back then," Tom said. "Anyway, so they're fishing and finally, Peter notices a man on the shore. The man yells at them to cast their nets on the other side of the boat."

"That's it?" she asked.

"Yeah. Peter was skeptical too, but they try it and when they raise the nets, they are filled with fish," Tom said. "Peter looks at the man on the shore and realizes it's Jesus."

"The dead man," Janeway said, dryly.

"He wasn't dead anymore," Tom reminded her. "But the point is, Peter sees his best friend after believing that he was gone forever. Can you imagine losing your best friend, grieving and mourning them, and then getting a second chance?" Janeway, who'd been skeptical, shook her head.

"I can't," she said. "What did he do?"

"I'm glad you asked," Tom said. "It's my favorite part. So, Peter sees Jesus and is so excited to go be with him that he can't wait for the boat to make it back to the shore. Instead, Peter takes off all his clothes and jumps into the water. He swims back to the shore to reach Jesus that much sooner."

"That's devotion," she agreed. "I have to tell you, though, I'm not sure where you're going with this story."

"I'm Peter," he said. "What I mean is I'm Peter and when I see you, it's all I can do not to drop everything and swim to shore."

She was touched and he could see her eyes glisten with moisture. She reached out and took his hand. He laced their fingers together and when she squeezed, he squeezed back. It was the moment when one of them should have let go, should have stood up and made for the door but instead they didn't move. He moved his thumb in circles on the skin of her hand and she watched him do it. Their knees were angled toward one another, bumping on the sofa. He reached out slowly and lifted her leg; draped it over his own so they were a little closer and she allowed it.

"We're doing this all backward," he said.

"How so?"

"Well, first we shared all our intimate thoughts and then we shared a bed," he said. "Usually the kissing comes first."

"But you haven't kissed me," she pointed out. This was true. In his mind, he'd kissed her a thousand times in a thousand different places but that was only his imagination. He would kiss her now; he would show her the depth of his desire and devotion.

He didn't get the chance to do so. Impatient, she kissed him first. She leaned into him and pressed her mouth to his.

oooo

B'Elanna came into Sickbay with a crushed hand. Engineering accidents were commonplace – it was a dangerous profession on a dangerous area of the ship. Tom spent a lot of time regenerating skin on plasma burns and healing lacerations. Sometimes he even healed fractured bones or radiation poisoning. But something like a crushed hand fell under the jurisdiction of the Doctor, and for that Tom was grateful.

When he saw B'Elanna come in cradling her hand, his first instinct was to hide and it was an instinct he followed. He ducked into the Doctor's office and peered through the glass as the Doctor led B'Elanna to a bed to scan her injury.

"Lieutenant Paris!" the Doctor called. Tom winced and thought about sneaking out the backdoor, but instead walked out into the bay and forced a smile. "There you are," the Doctor huffed. "I need your assistance."

"What happened?" he asked, standing dutifully beside the Doctor and refusing to take his eyes off her swollen, mangled hand. He wouldn't look at her face, wouldn't see the loathing there if he didn't have to.

"The Jefferies tube door closed automatically to contain a leak and my hand got in the way." B'Elanna was blunt answering his question and he didn't have to look at her to know that she wouldn't look at him either. Which was a shame, because before there was a thing between them, they were friends and now, that was gone.

The Doctor needed Tom to hand him a variety of instruments. All the medical technology in the world, but in the end, the Doctor set her hand pushing the bones back into place with his fingers. B'Elanna hissed but took the pain like a champion. The Doctor left Tom to knit the bones back together. It was the moment of truth, them alone.

When he looked B'Elanna in the face, she looked back.

"I'm sorry," he said. He meant the pain in her hand, the blood that was drying in the beds of her nails.

"I know," she said.

"Your hand will be a little stiff," Tom said, running the regenerator over her bruised flesh. The display on the instruments beeped every time a bone was healed and he could move on to another damaged area.

"All right," she acknowledged. "I've broken bones before."

"I've healed them before," he admitted. "I guess we both know the drill."

"I guess we do," she said. His instrument beeped for the final time.

"Good as new," he said, stepping back. She looked at him and then flexed her hand experimentally.

"Thank the Doctor for me, would you?" she asked before standing up and walking out the door. He deserved that. He was cleaning up the mess made by her injury – disinfecting the instruments used, sterilizing the bio bed, when he returned to what he'd been doing all day. Thinking about kissing the Captain. Thinking about how her hair slipped between his fingers when he touched her head, how she had used her thumb to wipe her lipstick off the corner of his mouth – how he had found that unbearably sexy.

He thought about how her tongue had slid against his, how she had tasted like caffeine, like chocolate, like something sweet and unidentifiable. He thought about how her shoulders hunched in when he bit her neck, how long and dark her eyelashes seemed resting on her cheeks when her eyes were closed. How her brow furrowed with pleasure and concentration, like kissing him was some important and delicate task.

"Mr. Paris, I think it's clean." The Doctor startled him and he looked down. He'd been sterilizing the regenerator for at least three cycles.

"Right," he said. "Just wanted to make sure."

"Just because you and Lieutenant Torres are no longer involved, it doesn't make her literally infectious," the Doctor said.

"Of course not," Tom said, slightly offended. The Doctor studied him carefully, his eyes gleaming.

"How are _you_ feeling?" the Doctor asked accusingly. "You seem a little flushed."

"I'm fine," Tom said quickly. The last thing he needed was the Doctor scanning him and seeing his increased heart rate, dilated blood vessels, out of control hormones. Love was a medical condition with very real symptoms. Love could kill a person if they weren't careful. The French didn't coin the phrase "la petite mort" for nothing.

Tom was sure that, eventually, Kathryn Janeway would kill him. If kissing her had left him jittery and distracted, making love to her would render him completely useless. But he was getting ahead of himself. Sure, they'd spent an hour necking on her couch but then he'd left because they had to be professional about life on a starship.

Planet side, they would fall into an affair and he would request a transfer to another ship, to a space station or to a planet and no interests would conflict. Out here, there was no transferring anywhere except to another deck.

"I don't think you're fine," the Doctor said, now.

"I am," he said. "I'm just a little… distracted."

"Clearly," the Doctor sniffed. But the Doctor didn't press and so Tom went back to his duties, allowed his mind to wander through the last evening all over again.

oooo

Janeway wasn't hiding in her ready room, she was merely working. If it was away from prying eyes, that was really beyond her control. She pressed her thumb to a PADD, authorizing a shift change and entered the data into the main computer.

Sure, this seemed like busy work, but on a tightly run starship, everything was important.

Her door chimed and she tensed.

"Come in," she said.

Chakotay smiled at her and set a pile of PADDS down on her desk. He scooped up the pile she was finished with and stood at her desk, expectantly.

"Commander?" she asked.

"Feeling especially productive and ambitious today, are we?" he asked.

"Maybe," she said.

"Good for you," he said.

"Work is work and it needs to be done," she said, feeling defensive.

"I agree," he said. She frowned at him.

"Something else?" she asked.

"Not really," he said. "There was an accident in engineering but everything is back to normal."

"Who got hurt?" she asked.

"B'Elanna closed her hand in a tube door," he said.

"Ouch."

"Tom released her to duty fifteen minutes ago," Chakotay said.

"Tom's in sickbay?" she asked.

"You should know," Chakotay said. She narrowed her eyes, willing herself not to flush.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"You just authorized the shift change," Chakotay said, waving the PADD at her. She relaxed.

"Right," she said.

"Captain, may I have permission to speak freely?" he asked. She couldn't refuse him – well she could but she had no good reason to and so she nodded, once. "I know, and I believe the crew knows, that you shared a unique and intimate experience with Paris."

"I…" She faltered. "Yes."

"You and Paris were friends before that happened," Chakotay said. That was true also, so she nodded again. "If you want to spend time with him, then spend time with him. You shouldn't feel guilty about it. Even you need friends."

"You're my friend," she said.

"Besides me and Tuvok," he said. "I'm your first officer and Tuvok is Vulcan and 150-years-old. Tom Paris could be good for you. He'll force you to have some fun every now and then."

"All right, all right," she said, waving her hand in the air. "Your opinion has been noted. I'm boring and secretive. Got it."

"That isn't what I meant and you know it," he said, smiling.

"Sure," she said.

"Just… and I mean this with all due respect," Chakotay said. She braced herself. "You tend to do everything full-throttle and so does Paris. Your friendship with me works because there's balance. With Tom… just be careful you two don't go off the deep end, okay?"

She blushed. Maybe they already had. She'd lost control with Tom; let things get a little dangerous. They were already wading into the deep end of the pool.

"Go away now," she said, instead, but not maliciously.

"Aye, aye," he said, and went back onto the bridge. She let her head fall and rested her forehead on the cool metal of her desk. The thing was, Chakotay was right. She did need a person like Tom in her life, but it was people like Tom who'd always gotten her into the worst of trouble. And for a woman went with trouble like white on rice, that was saying something.

"Paris to Janeway."

She lifted her head and smoothed her hair, as if Tom could see her through an audio link.

"Janeway here," she said, trying to sound as commanding as possible. As if she were in the middle of something very important and he was interrupting her.

"The Doctor relieved me of my sickbay duties for the remainder of the shift," he said. "Permission to come to the bridge?"

Usually, when Tom got out of something, he ran straight to the holodeck or the mess hall or even to his quarters. Now he wanted to work more? She understood – work could be distracting but it could also be because she was up here. Were things already changing?

"Permission denied," she said. "I want you to go help Seven in Astrometrics. She's close to finishing and she could use your help with the final chart inputs."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said. He didn't sound hurt, but curious.

"You work well with her," Janeway said. "Not everyone does."

"True," he said.

"I was planning on coming by myself in a while," she offered. "I'll check on your progress."

"Okay," he said, sounding pleased.

"Janeway out." With the silence restored, she returned her head to her desk. She had planned on going down to see Seven later, but it felt untrue now, marred by her excitement to see Tom. She hadn't seen him since he'd left her quarters, her lips burning and her body restless. They had to be able to work together. Chakotay was right – her friendship with her first officer was successful almost wholly due to balance. She had to find someway of achieving it with Tom.


	6. Chapter 6

While Astrometrics was now almost completely functional, the form of the room was still lacking. The screen was functional but the bulkhead had yet to be replaced around it, so instead it was framed by blinking circuitry and jagged metal where the wall had been cut away to make room for the display. Were it up to Seven of Nine, the task would be complete as aesthetics were irrelevant but Janeway liked clean lines and polished metal, so there was still work to be done.

Tom stood next to Seven at the console, entering in data and watching the display shift and change in accommodation of new information. Seven had done remarkable work – had practically put stellar cartography out of business. Seven wasn't chatty and they'd spent most of their time together in silence but Tom didn't mind the quiet. He was, however, surprised when Seven was the one to break it.

"Lieutenant Paris, I want to apologize for my remarks in the briefing room."

He glanced up and saw her looking at him, her face emotionless but open and sincere.

"Oh," he said. "Apology accepted."

She turned back to her display.

"It's really the Captain you should apologize to, though," he added. She turned back to him.

"I had planned on doing so," Seven said. "The Doctor has been aiding in my social development and has informed me that people do not like being told of their own romantic preferences."

"I suppose that's true," Tom said. "Especially when they haven't even admitted them to themselves."

"I do not understand," Seven said.

"I just mean… no one likes to be informed of their own feelings, especially personal ones," Tom said. She stared at him blankly. "Captain Janeway isn't the type to be open with her feelings anyway."

"Curious," Seven said. "It is Captain Janeway who most encourages me to be open with my emotions."

"And that's a little thing we like to call irony," Tom said. "She's right to encourage you to be open, I just wish she'd take her own advice once in a while."

"When you and Captain Janeway were linked, you were a collective." Seven said it as if it was a statement, but he was pretty sure it was a question.

"I hadn't thought of it like that, but yes," he said.

"Did you find the experience enlightening?" she asked.

"Are you asking me if I liked it?" he asked. She nodded. "I didn't think I would, but yes. There were some good parts. There were some bad parts, too."

"I find I often miss the feeling of being a part of the collective," Seven admitted. "When I heard about what happened with you and Captain Janeway, I felt…" She trailed off, searching for the correct word.

"Jealous?" he supplied.

"Envious," she said. He didn't bother to point out that meant the same thing.

"Just call me Two of Two," he joked but of course, Seven didn't smile. They fell back into their work and it was only a few minutes later that the doors hissed open and Janeway herself strode in.

"Speak of the devil," Tom said.

"I'm afraid to ask," Janeway said. Tom looked away, wary of staring at her too long. This was the first they'd seen of one another since the previous night and with Seven in the room, they didn't need to take any chances.

"Captain, I just wanted to apologize…" Seven was launching into her speech again so Tom turned back to his console and tried to think of anything other than how kissing the Captain had felt. How kissing Kathryn had felt. They were both on duty and the only way he would be able to continue was if he could learn to separate the two.

"It's fine, Seven," Janeway was saying, though her voice had lost that patient quality.

"Seven, show the Captain your latest modifications," Tom interrupted. Seven shot him an icy look but complied. Janeway headed for the screen so she could get a closer look at what Seven was bringing up on the display. When the construction of the room was complete, there would be steps up to a dais. As the room was now, the steps had been laid out but not attached. Tom saw Janeway lift her foot and winced.

"Captain, be careful!" he called, but she'd already brought her foot down. The panel of deck plating slid out from under her and she went flying back, landing hard on her backside. The metal slid down onto one of her ankles with a loud clang.

"Ow," she said after a moment. Tom rushed over to her.

"Seven, get the medkit," he ordered.

"This room is not yet equipped with one," she said.

"Well then go find one!" he yelled. Seven hurried out the door while Tom pulled the deck plating off her leg.

"I'm all right," she hissed, sitting up.

"You're bleeding profusely," he noted. The metal had cut a large gash into her leg. It'd ripped her pants and her blood was quickly soaking the cloth around the area.

"I think it's just my dignity seeping out," she said, but hissed when he pressed his hand directing to the cut to staunch the flow. "Ouch!"

"Where's Seven?" he asked.

"Are your hands clean?" she asked.

"Probably not," he said. "We'll let the Doctor deal with any infections."

"Great, I…" She faltered for a second.

"You okay?" he asked.

"A little dizzy," she noted. Seven returned, a medkit in her hand. Tom grabbed it and pulled out the tricorder. He handed it to Seven.

"Scan her," he ordered. He didn't want to take his hand away from the wound.

"She has fractured her tibia," Seven noted.

"Let's stop the bleeding and get her to sickbay," Tom said. He pulled his hand away and was pleased to see that, while she was still bleeding, it had slowed to a trickle. He used the dermal regenerator to close the wound. "You okay?" he asked her.

"Woozy," she said.

"Come on, we're going to sickbay," he said. "Seven, help me."

Tom pulled her to her feet and she gasped. Tom took one arm and Seven the other. They shared the brunt of her weight and they limped out the door to sickbay.

oooo

"You are having quite the accident-prone month," the Doctor said, having repaired the fracture. "Perhaps you should consider being more careful?"

"Doctor, I…"

"Kathryn." Tom had heard the ire in her voice and had said her name softly to head off a fight that they all would regret. She glanced at him and sighed.

"_Yes_, Doctor," she said, through clenched teeth.

"Come on," Tom said. "I'll walk you to your quarters."

"I'm fine," she said. "I can return to duty."

"You're fine, but your pants aren't," he said, looking down. She looked at her leg and smiled.

"All right," she said. They boarded the turbolift just outside sickbay and Tom realized it was the first time they'd been alone since the previous night. Janeway seemed distracted by the state of her uniform and when she looked at him, she frowned. "You'll have to change too."

"Huh?" he asked.

"My blood is on your sleeve," she said. He looked down at the fabric. It was hard to see the blood on the black cloth – uniforms were resistant to stains and most elements but when the looked closer, he could see that the gray sleeve of his turtleneck was soaked around the cuff.

"So it is," he said.

"I probably have one of your shirts in my quarters, still," she offered. He was almost certain that he'd cleared her quarters of all of his belongings but he wasn't about to turn down an invitation. Inside her quarters, disappeared into her bedroom, her hands already unfastening the clasp on her trousers. He busied himself pulling off his uniform jacket. Her blood was bright against the dull fabric at his wrist. At the time, he knew her injury was mostly superficial and easily healed. Now, staring at her blood made him feel uneasy and slightly panicked.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," Janeway said, reappearing looking fresh. "What's wrong?"

He lifted his sleeve.

"You were hurt," he said.

"A scrape," she said. "Which you took care of."

"Right, but what if it had been more serious?" he asked. "You really do need to be more careful."

"All right," she said. "Now we have a problem."

"What?"

"I've seen that look before. I've seen it on every first officer I've had, every boyfriend, every fiancé I've ever been attached to," she said. "My job is dangerous. Nothing, short of getting a new one, is going to change that."

"Of course, but…"

"I'm the Captain, Tom. That's the end of it. I'm always going to be the Captain and no matter what you and I feel for one another, I have to be in charge. I have to take risks and you have to follow my lead without questioning your orders or this… this is over before it begins."

"You're right," he said. "Of course you're right. I'm sorry, Captain."

"Apology accepted," she said. "I couldn't find your shirt. Replicate a new one."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said. He used her replicator to produce a new turtleneck and jacket. He removed his comm. badge and pips and set them on her desk. She turned around, faced the wall to give him a little privacy. He quickly stripped off the old shirt and shrugged on the new one.

"We should… talk about what happened," she said. When she heard him zip up his jacket, she turned around.

"You kissed me," he said. "That's what happened."

"You kissed me back," she accused.

"I don't deny that," he said. "What more would you like to discuss?" She frowned at him, crossing her arms and looking stern.

"I don't routinely go around kissing people, Tom," she said.

"I didn't say you did," he said. "Or that kissing people is a crime."

"I know," she said. "You're just going to give me time to adjust, all right?"

"You're the boss," he said. "Janeway speed is my favorite speed to fly."

"Now you're just charming me," she said, stepping up to him. He smiled. When she didn't move away, he leaned down and kissed her softly. He slid his hands down her arms and settled them on her hips. She pushed up onto the balls of her feet and wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head so their noses didn't bump. He was just thinking of sliding his hands down a little further when they were interrupted.

"All senior officers report to the bridge." This was Chakotay, summoning them to duty. They could tell by his tone, though, that it was a summons for a scientific discovery rather a life-threatening emergency. Janeway stepped back and took a deep breath.

"To be continued?" she asked. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He turned to the door. "Wait, you have lipstick…" She wiped his mouth with her finger. "How am I?"

"A little smeared," he said.

"Go on," she said, rushing into the bathroom. "I'm right behind you." He waited, however, and endured the steely glare she gave him when she found him still standing in her sitting room. They picked up the pace in the corridor and when they emerged from the lift together, she barked for a report before anyone could notice anything. He slid into his chair, thankful for a new distraction.

The truth of the matter was, however, that seeing Captain Janeway and Lieutenant Paris together was becoming commonplace. News of the break-up of Tom and B'Elanna had spread quickly through the ranks and that being paired with the news of the implants was enough to keep the gossip mill going for a good, long while. Because everyone understood the necessity of staying close to one another when the implants were still blinking in their brains, but the fact that Janeway and Paris were still together a great deal of the time with no real explanation was a whole other story.

They ate their meals together, when Janeway bothered to eat. They walked the corridors together, they shared holodeck time and if one of them was exiting a turbolift, it was a fairly safe bet that the other was not far behind. And when, the crew noticed, Janeway and Paris were not together, they both looked as if they wished they were. Janeway hid it better, of course, she wasn't the Captain for nothing, but Paris got this wistful, impatient expression. If he was sitting, his leg bounced endlessly and if he was standing, his fingers were curled at his side.

Those who were up in the bridge rotations watched the pair carefully. Janeway tended to stay in her seat, her ready room, or up at Tuvok's security station and Tom, having a seat, stayed in it. But now, it wasn't unusual to see Janeway up at the helm, leaning against the console studying data or talking to her pilot with a serious, soft expression.

"How was it?"

Harry Kim was in the mess hall and had been approached by a few members of the lower ranks.

"How was what?" he asked, confused.

"Your bridge shift?" Ayala asked.

"Normal?" he answered, hopefully.

"Come on, Harry," Jenny Delaney said, sitting down across from him. "We all know Tom can't run a betting pool based on himself and someone has to step up. That person is me."

"Great," Harry muttered. "What do you want from me?"

"We want you to tell us what you saw," Megan Delaney said. "You're Tom's best friend! You work almost every bridge shift with Janeway!"

"Captain Janeway," Harry corrected, sounding uneasy. "I'm not going to gossip about the Captain."

"Fine," Jenny said. "Then gossip about Tom."

"No," Harry said, looking down at his dinner. It was growing cold on his tray and nothing, not anything that Neelix made ever tasted better cold. Both Delaney's crossed their arms in the same, huffy manner. "Look, I don't know what's happening with those two, but even if I did, it wouldn't be my place to say."

"Fine," Ayala said. Harry always thought he was a man who knew when to quit and smiled at him gratefully. "It's not like you were the only person on the bridge last shift."

Harry sighed and watched the three of them retreat. He'd been honest, however. He didn't know what was going on between Tom and the Captain. He did know that Tom had been all but absent from his life in the last two weeks and it didn't look like that would be changing any time soon. He also knew that the Captain had been uncharacteristically chipper through something that should have been a grave situation – an abduction and violation of individual rights.

And Tom – Tom was almost unrecognizable. Instead of being upbeat and open, he was secretive and had been dodging Harry. In fact, he'd been dodging everyone off shift. He didn't toil hours away alone in the holodeck, didn't hang around engineering anymore, obviously. Short of duty shifts and meal times, Tom Paris had pulled a disappearing act. Harry suspected, however, that Tom Paris was not alone. Would he say this to the Delaney twins and Ayala? No. Did he want to know what was happening with his best friend and his Captain behind closed doors?

Not even slightly.

oooo

Janeway fretted about making a mistake only when she wasn't with Tom. When Tom was working in Sickbay or when she was holed up in meetings all day, she fretted that she couldn't change her life enough to accommodate another person. That there was too much to deal with and that when she got home at the end of a very long day, she just wanted to be alone with her thoughts and to sleep heavily in a large and empty bed.

But when Tom was in the room, she couldn't ever remember her reasons for wanting to be alone. Tom managed to bring out the best in her. With Tom, she was funny and charming. With Tom, she managed to stay relaxed and alert and when she started to slip, he could see it and could somehow pull her back with a look or the touch of his hand on the small of her back.

Right now, though, nothing could cheer up Kathryn Janeway. She'd spent the day caught between two warring alien ships and Voyager had once again been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The ship had taken considerable damage and Janeway wondered idly if there was any of the original Voyager left or if they had rebuilt everything so many times that it was an all-new ship.

Her ready room was in shambles, the bridge was a mess – half of the consoles were out and the other half were still flickering. Sickbay was dealing with injured crew and she didn't even want to think about engineering. They'd limped away at half impulse and Tom had spent almost ten minutes explaining to her why he couldn't get a stable warp field to form but had realized soon enough that she wasn't really listening.

"Go work with B'Elanna," she'd said, rubbing her forehead and smudging it with conduit grease. She hadn't thought about the order much, it was her chief engineer and her pilot and to Tom's credit, he didn't bat an eye before heading to the lower decks. Later, when Chakotay had handed her a cup of coffee and she'd looked up expecting to see Tom, she realized what she had done.

"You okay?" Chakotay asked. She was sitting on the floor working on the Ops console – Harry had taken a blow to the head during the fight and was still in sickbay so she'd decided that after warp, sensors were the next highest priority.

"Yes," she said. "I just realized I did something… well. It's fine. Hand me that spanner?"

"Sure," he said. "I can get Seven up here to help you, if you'd like."

"She's working on Astrometrics," Janeway said. "If she gets that working then I won't even have to worry about these sensors."

"You look like hell," Chakotay said, sitting next to her. She snatched the spanner from his hand and went back to work.

"We all look like hell," she said. "But thanks anyway."

"I just mean you've been awake for 20 hours. You shouldn't be elbow deep in consoles and gel packs," he said.

"And yet, here I am," she said. "What's your point?"

"My point is Gamma shift is on in twenty minutes. When they arrive, let them take over and get some sleep, okay?"

"Fine," she said. "But only because you asked so nicely."

"Whatever it takes," he said, standing up.

When the shift change came on, she showed the ops ensign where she was in her repairs and got on the turbolift. She knew she should go to her quarters to shower and sleep, but instead she headed to engineering to check on progress there. Hopefully B'Elanna had better news for her and hopefully, Tom wouldn't be upset that she'd thrown him into the fray with his ex.

Engineering was still buzzing and she heard B'Elanna's voice above the din, still shouting orders. When B'Elanna saw the Captain, she didn't pause, just waved Janeway over and launched into her report. Things were bad, but not irreparable and B'Elanna said as much.

"So when will we have warp back?" Janeway asked, tiredly.

"48 hours," B'Elanna said. "Maybe a little longer for full efficiency."

"Good work," she said. "I sent Tom down to help, where is he?" B'Elanna, to her credit, kept her face neutral. She had a better poker face than Janeway her self.

"Tom is great with calculations and theory, but when it comes to actual repairs?"

"I know," Janeway said.

"I sent him off duty about two hours ago," B'Elanna said. "But he was helpful."

"Good," Janeway said. "Get some rest, if you can."

B'Elanna laughed as she walked away.

Again, Janeway knew she should go to her own quarters, but instead she went to Tom's. When she rang the chime there was no response, so she entered in his code and crept into the dark quarters. She found him on his bed, asleep in his uniform. He hadn't even taken off his shoes before collapsing. He was a sorry sight – sweaty and smudged. He had soot and conduit residue on his uniform and was snoring. She sat next to him on the edge of the mattress and touched his shoulder.

"Hey," she said. "Tom."

He opened his eyes and struggled to focus.

"Kathryn," he said. "What time is it?"

"Don't worry," she said. "I just got off shift and wanted to check on you. I wanted to… apologize for sending you down to work with B'Elanna without a thought."

"Why are you apologizing?" he asked, sleepily. "You did your job and you did it right."

"I know, but…"

"No buts," he ordered. "This is what we agreed upon." She smiled at him, touched her hand to his face.

"Thanks," she said. She moved to stand but he stopped her.

"You could stay," he said. She searched his face. They hadn't spent the night together since having the implants removed. They hadn't done much more than kiss, either. "Just to sleep."

"I need a shower," she said. "You do too, honestly."

"I happen to have one," he said. "You go first. Please, I'd like for you to stay." She didn't want to disappoint him and the thought of sleeping with him next to her again was too much to resist.

In his shower, she thought about him. She wanted him, she did, but things had been so hectic that every time they got a moment together, it was interrupted. The last time, they'd been on her sofa. They'd been kissing for almost half an hour. Her lips had felt swollen and her neck tingled from his slight stubble. They'd reclined so he was mostly on top of her and his hand had made its way under her shirt. She was just about to pull his own shirt off when the ship and shuddered with hostile fire.

As soon as she got a romantic life, even the ship conspired to take it away form her. It didn't seem fair. She shut off the shower and wrapped his towel around her. It wasn't the most soothing shower but all she wanted was to be rid of visible evidence of a disastrous day.

Tom came into the bathroom and she didn't even care that he saw her in his towel. The towel was enormous and covered everything from below her shoulders to mid-calf. He handed her a t-shirt and a clean pair of his underwear and she took the offered garments and moved past him so he could shower. She dressed and crept in to hang the towel back up so he would have it when he was finished. She knew he must be tired – usually, she'd learned quickly, he hummed in the shower a sound that ricocheted off the walls of the small bathroom and floated out into the larger living area, but now she could only hear the sound of the shower running and little else.

His clothes were too big for her. The neck of the brown t-shirt hung down, exposing one shoulder. The boxer shorts he'd offered were simple – standard issue – but she had narrow hips and had to roll the waist over a few times to get them to stay in place. It was her fault for having no forethought, for assuming she would be able to come in here and leave in the same hour.

The shower shut off and she crawled into bed, her hair wet and tangled against his pillow. She could smell him beneath her own smell. She pressed her face into the pillow and breathed deeply.

She was so, so tired. As soon as her body hit the mattress, she was already half way gone. She wanted to watch Tom come out of the bathroom, but instead, she felt him crawl into the bed next to her and she turned her head slightly but couldn't manage to open her eyes.

"Computer, no lights," he said and the computer chirped. The lights must've dimmed, but they'd been so low already she couldn't tell the difference from behind her eyelids. Tom settled in, pulling the blanket up over them both. She felt his knees press into the back of hers, the light dusting of a hairy leg against a smooth one. His arm rested in the dip of her waist, but she couldn't think about any of this. She was sleeping the deep and vast sleep of the exhausted.

oooo

Janeway woke up first. No matter whom she was involved with at the time, Janeway always woke up first. Her philosophy had always been that she could sleep when she was dead and she tried to live her life that way. Her body knew how much sleep it needed to function and when she woke up, she was awake. End of story.

She wasn't sure what time it was, exactly, or what had brought her back to consciousness. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn't in her own bed and that she wasn't alone. She rolled over and Tom's arm slipped off of her. He shifted in his sleep, accommodating for her movement. She watched him, mildly surprised. Tom was a good bedmate. Her first fiancé, Justin, had been restless like herself and when she moved in the night, he would wake up and complain. Mark, on the other hand, slept like the dead. He also liked to have his space and would hold her for a few minutes but then push her away. Tom, however, seemed to sleep through most anything and held her close in the night. He was warm though, a heat machine, and she pushed away the covers and slipped out of bed and into the bathroom.

She used the toilet and stared at her reflection as she washed her hands. Her hair was a mess and she looked tired and worn but she didn't care.

"Computer," she whispered. "What is the time?"

"The time is 0358," the computer responded. She winced, hoping the noise didn't wake Tom but when she padded back into the bedroom, he was still fast asleep. In two hours, she would have to start the process of beginning her day, but until then, she would crawl back into bed and wait it out in comfort.

Tom sensed her movement and rolled toward her when she got back under the covers. He cuddled up to her, pressing his face into her shoulder and sighing heavy and warm sighs.

"Tom?" she whispered. He mumbled something but she couldn't make it out. "What?"

"I'm sleeping," he repeated, slightly more clearly but still muffled by her skin and bone.

"I know," she said. "Sorry." She closed her eyes but her body wouldn't cooperate. She was restless, now, worried about her ship. "I'm going to get up," she said.

"No!" She heard that loud and clear.

"You want to sleep, I can't," she said.

"I want to sleep next to you," he said, stretching a little and finally prying open his eyes one at a time. "If you're not here, then, well… I'm just by myself."

"You're not really a morning person, are you?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Did that not make sense?" he asked.

"It made some kind of sense," she conceded.

"I would like very much for you to stay for at least another hour," he said.

"Now that was clear," she said, relaxing back against him. She slid her bare leg over his and when he let his hand slide from her hip down her thigh, she sighed. She wasn't surprised to feel his lips against her neck yet and she turned her head to kiss him properly. His hand continued its journey, moving back up past her hips and across her flat stomach. The tip of his fingers brushed the bottom of her breast and her sigh turned to a gasp.

She suddenly knew exactly how they both could kill an hour.

oooo

Tom sat at the helm. He was working with B'Elanna again, but she was in engineering and sending him data through his console. She sent him another round of modifications and he input the changes.

"Hey!" he said. "I think we've got warp one!"

"Let's give it a shot!" Chakotay said, behind him. Janeway was nowhere to be found, somewhere in the bowels of the ship fixing something, no doubt. She'd been on the bridge at the start of the shift and she and Chakotay had spent nearly an hour in her ready room doing who knew what but when Chakotay had come back out he'd been alone.

"Yes sir," Tom said, now. He created the warp field and it remained stable for almost fifteen seconds before it collapsed. "Well."

"Yeah, keep working," Chakotay said. "Are you talking to engineering?"

"B'Elanna and I are on it," he said. Chakotay raised an eyebrow.

"Good," he said.

When Janeway came back onto the bridge, she was in a better mood than the previous day though she was once again covered with grease and grime.

"Mucking around again, I see," Chakotay said.

"My ship, my rules," she said.

"And don't you forget it," Tom muttered.

"Hey," Janeway said. "Just fly my ship, all right?"

"Yes, Captain," he said, biting back his smile. He could almost hear Harry smirking across the bridge.

"I don't want you out of that seat until we have warp, got it?" Janeway said, and this wasn't her teasing voice but the voice of the Captain. He knew what that meant.

"You'll have my best, Ma'am," he said. She nodded at him once and then stepped up to speak to Tuvok who had just reappeared at his security station. It was amazing how quickly the crew worked under pressure. Already the bridge looked almost back to normal and while they were still struggling to maintain a stable warp field, they'd have one by morning. He knew B'Elanna well, after all.

A couple hours before dinnertime, Janeway finally let them break for lunch. Tom and Harry didn't wait around for her to change her mind and hopped onto the turbolift. Tom looked at Janeway who looked at him back from just outside her ready room door. They locked eyes until the doors slid closed.

"Tom?" Harry asked. Tom had known Harry for four years now, had been his best friend for just shy of that. He knew Harry well and knew his tone of voice well enough to know that he was about to ask a brave question.

"Yeah, Harry?" he asked.

"Are you sleeping with the Captain?" Harry asked and Tom gave him some credit for keeping his voice steady. Tom thought about lying, thought about begging off a response all together, but the truth was, he owed Harry more than that.

"Yeah," Tom said. Harry exhaled, the end of his air turning into a dry chuckle. He shook his head in disbelief.

"Wow."

"You have no idea," Tom said.


	7. Chapter 7

Tom didn't see Janeway that night and he didn't see her the night after either. It wasn't as if he didn't see her at all – they had overlapping bridge shifts and he ate breakfast with her, Chakotay, and Tuvok once. They shared a turbolift for three decks and she held his hand for two and a half of them without saying a word.

When the ship was back on course toward Earth and back into workable shape, she called him to her quarters.

"Hi," he said, sliding into her quarters, glancing back at the empty corridor behind him.

"Hi," she said. "Chakotay knows."

"Chakotay knows what?" he asked.

"About me and you. About us," she said. Tom stared at her. She was sitting on the sofa holding a cup of tea. She was still in uniform except for her boots.

"Really," Tom said. "That's surprising."

"Not so surprising," she said. "I told him."

"Did you?" he asked, unable to hide his shock. She patted the cushion next to her and he sat down.

"I did," she said.

"Why?" he asked.

"Well, it wasn't on purpose!" she said, defensively.

"What, you stumbled over a bump in the rug and the truth bubbled out of you as if you were a spring?" he asked, his voice rising with each word.

"Yes, Thomas, I'm a spring of truth," she snapped. She rubbed her brow.

"I didn't mean…"

"I know what you meant," she said. "It's just… Chakotay has this open face and he asks these leading questions and suddenly telling him felt like a good idea, and then I did and so, now he knows."

"Clear as day," he said. She pulled a face.

"Sorry," she said.

"Don't be sorry," he said. "It can only improve _my_ reputation."

"Thanks," she said, dryly.

"Harry knows," he said. She let her jaw fall open and then smacked him in the chest.

"You let me do that whole… song and dance!" she said.

"I did," he grinned. "It was cute."

"Why did you tell Harry?" she asked.

"He _asked_ me," Tom said. "Straight out. He asked me if I was sleeping with you."

"Wow," Janeway said. "Welcome aboard Mr. Kim."

"I know!" Tom said. "I had to reward his gung-ho attitude with the truth."

"I should say," she said. "But, I tell you this because I worry that it won't be a secret for very long."

"Harry's poker face does leave one wanting," Tom said.

"And if B'Elanna asks Chakotay, he won't lie to her," Janeway said.

"And if B'Elanna knows…."

"Then so knows my nation," Janeway said. "I wanted to make sure you were going to be all right with that."

"Will _you _be all right with it?" he pressed. She sighed.

"I don't know," she said. "It isn't you, I'm reluctant to display that part of my life with anyone to the crew."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I'm the Captain," she said, simply. He waited for something more than that, but she didn't offer it. He'd heard the line before – more often than not from Owen Paris. I'm your father, I'm the Captain, I'm the Admiral – frankly, Tom didn't care.

"Not a lot we can do about it now," Tom said. "This seems to be the sort of thing that resolves itself naturally."

"That's sweet," she said. "Naïve, but sweet." She stood up and offered him her hand. He took it and stood up too. "Stay with me tonight?"

He thought of a million witty ways to respond, but settled for nodding his head and following her into the bedroom.

Later, sweaty and sated and warm in her bed, they spoke in low, secret tones. Tom knew a lot about Janeway now, a lot about how her mind worked and the things she thought about on a daily basis, but there were things even she pushed down deep inside, things that she refused to think about. That's the Janeway Tom wanted to know next.

"I knew I was settling with Mark," she said, her voice even more raspy and low than usual. "It's awful to say it, but I was 42 when he asked me to marry him and going from an empty cabin on a starship to an empty house on Earth was just… no longer attractive."

He didn't say anything; he just let her talk.

"Which isn't to say that I didn't love him," she said. "I'd known him my whole life, practically. He was… is a good man. He would have been very loyal to me. He would have made being a good husband to me the most important thing in his life."

"He sounds good," Tom said.

"My sister suspected, though. I kept pushing back the date of the wedding and she asked me once if I was really sure but I blew her off."

"When was the date of your wedding?" Tom asked.

"Two weeks into Voyager's mission to find Chakotay," she said. "I pushed back the wedding again and left and never came home."

"We all never came home," Tom pointed out. "How did you get me on this ship anyway?"

"What?" she asked.

"I mean, I know you came and made that deal to get me out of Auckland, but I was never really sure how," he said.

"You won't like it," she said. He groaned and pushed his face into her pillow and hair.

"My father?" he asked.

"Do you want to know what he said?" she asked. "He said, aren't you getting married?"

"Did he?" Tom asked.

"He asked me why I took this command," Janeway said, shaking her head. "I could've declined it, got married, and have taken another ship in a few months."

"Why didn't you?" he asked.

"I wanted this ship," she said, reaching up and patting the bulkhead above the bed. "Anyway, I got Voyager, I got you to fly her and while it's not an ideal situation, right now I'm pretty happy."

He was pretty happy too.

oooo

Harry and B'Elanna were eating lunch together. Harry was getting used to spending time with B'Elanna alone. At first, it had always been Tom and B'Elanna and sometimes Harry was with them. Now, Tom was always off with the Captain and Harry and B'Elanna were the collateral damage. B'Elanna had been tight-lipped about the situation for the most part. B'Elanna tended not to express any emotion apart from anger but today she seemed listless at best.

"Susan is hosting a poker game tonight," Harry said, trying to keep his voice light. "We need a fifth. Interested?"

"I think I might just get some sleep," she said, looking down into her empty mug.

"Come on," Harry said. "One night."

"I hate poker," she said.

"Have you ever played?"

"It's an archaic game," she said. "Why would I want to?"

"Because it's fun and because actual other living people will be there," Harry said.

"I'm not hiding!" she said.

"Prove it to me by coming out tonight!" he said. "Two hours."

"I don't have anything to prove," she muttered.

"I'll even pick you up," he said. "We'll argue later."

"Yes," she said. "We will."

oooo

B'Elanna had agreed to go with him but he knew better than to tease her. They were walking toward Susan Nicoletti's quarters at the pace of off-duty officers when they went around the bend. Harry knew they were going to pass Tom's quarters but thought of nothing more than walking by them and pretending like he didn't notice. But as they rounded the bend, this hiss of opening doors made them pause and he felt his mouth fall open when Captain Janeway stepped out of Tom's quarters. Beside him, B'Elanna looked shocked as well.

Janeway, to her credit, held herself very well for coming out of a Lieutenant's quarters in civilian clothes. She tilted her chin up and gave a stiff nod.

"Lieutenant Torres. Ensign Kim," she said. And then she walked past them and made her way briskly down the hall and out of sight. Harry closed his mouth and braced himself.

"Did you know?" B'Elanna asked finally, her voice smaller than he'd ever heard it.

"It's probably not what it looks like," Harry said, trying to dodge the question.

"She was wearing Tom's shirt!" B'Elanna pointed out. Suddenly, she found her feet and started walking again. She shot past Tom's quarters and Harry had to hurry to catch up. "You knew!" B'Elanna accused. "Tom is a liar! I'm going to kill him!" She stopped and spun on her heel intent on going back to his quarters to do just that.

"Wait!" Harry said. "Just wait." She looked at him, her arms crossed and held painfully close to herself.

"What?" she said.

"Yes, I knew, but I really don't think Tom lied to you," Harry said.

"He promised me it wasn't her," B'Elanna said. "How is that not a lie?"

"Things change," Harry said. But B'Elanna didn't want to hear it, didn't want Harry to explain away her anger.

"You know what? I really don't feel like playing poker," B'Elanna said. "Tell Susan I'm sorry."

Harry stood alone in the corridor.

oooo

"I need your help," Janeway said, standing in Chakotay's office. Chakotay was surprised to see her – she'd gone off duty over two hours ago and he'd left the bridge to Tuvok not long after that. Now, here she was in his office, looking agitated and peculiarly underdressed.

"I'm afraid to ask," he said.

"Remember when you told me that the crew would be happy for Tom and I? That I should live my life? That it would all work itself out?" she asked.

"What did you do?" he asked, rubbing his forehead.

"It's not so much what I did as where I did and in front of whom," she said, flopping into a chair.

"Um…"

"I was walking out of Tom's quarters and I ran into Harry and B'Elanna," she said. "You haven't, by chance, informed her of my relationship with Tom already, have you?"

"No," he said, indignantly.

"Yeah," she said. "That's what I thought. The look on her face was most enlightening."

"What did you do?" Chakotay asked.

"Got the hell out of there, what would you have done?" she asked.

"Probably the same thing," he said, sounding slightly amused. "But you'll have to face her eventually."

"I know," she said. "I need to talk to her woman to woman but I don't know what to say."

"And you think I do?" he asked, moving to the replicator. He got her a cup of coffee and himself some tea. She took it.

"I know you're not the ideal person to share this… specific problem with but you know B'Elanna better than anyone," she said. "I'd appreciate any advice."

"I'd stay out of her way," Chakotay said. She stared at him.

"Not exactly the solution I was looking for," she said.

"Just for a few days," he said. "Let her cool down."

"Then what?" she said.

"Oh no," he said. "This is your mess. You had your chance with me and you threw it away. I can't help you now."

"Fine," she said. "Fine! Abandon me in my time of need. Some first officer you are."

He grinned at her.

"And what did Lieutenant Paris say?" he asked. She winced. "You haven't told him?"

"It just happened!" she said.

"It isn't yourself you should be worrying about, it's your helmsman," he said. "B'Elanna is smart enough not to take her anger out on the Captain."

"You think?" she asked, sitting up worriedly.

"She'll find someway to make his life miserable, mark my words," Chakotay said. Janeway shot out of her chair and set her coffee mug on his desk so hard that the liquid sloshed over the edge of the lip.

"Gotta go," she said, and rushed out. Chakotay's smile faded from his face. He had told her that things would work themselves out naturally and at the time he had wanted to believe it. Now, he was not so sure. Kathryn Janeway was a fine Captain and a stellar officer but her personal and social skills left something to be desired.

"Chakotay to Torres," Chakotay said, tapping his badge.

"Torres here," she responded.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

"I don't feel like talking just now," she said.

"Mind if I stop by?" he asked.

"You outrank me," she said. It wasn't exactly an invitation.

When he rang her chime, she let him in. She was sitting in her desk chair, staring at the blank screen of her computer.

"B'Elanna," he said.

"She reminds me of my mother," B'Elanna said, glancing at her. "Janeway."

"How so?" Chakotay asked.

"Stubborn. Single-minded. Tyrannical."

"I think that's a little harsh," he said. "She isn't trying to hurt you."

"Are you her messenger now?" B'Elanna asked.

"No," he said. "I'm here at my own risk."

"Brave of you," she said. Chakotay perched on the desk next to her.

"You and I are going to figure out a way to make all of this work, all right?" he said.

"I'll still take her orders," B'Elanna said. "Follow protocol. You can't ask me for anything more."

"It's going to make it a long trip," Chakotay said.

"It's already a long trip," she said.

oooo

"Just go to sleep," Tom groaned, rolling over. She was sitting up in bed, fretting. She'd come bursting into his quarters babbling about B'Elanna and retribution and he'd finally calmed her down but now she was tossing and turning.

"I'm not tired," she said.

"Yes, you are," he said. "That's why you left in the first place. _I _wanted you to spend the night, but you wanted to get some sleep and so you left! Now I want to sleep but I can't because I can literally hear you grinding your teeth!"

"Why are you yelling at me?" she asked.

"Because you're acting irrationally. B'Elanna isn't going to come in here with a compression phaser rifle, Kathryn, and if she does come here, you honestly don't think I can handle myself?"

"I don't know," she said, realizing this was a fight. Now her ire was up and she puffed up, steeling herself. "She beat you up the last time, why would this time be different?"

"I don't need you to protect me," he said, throwing back the covers and getting out of bed.

"Don't walk away from me," she yelled after him before rushing after him. He stood in the living room, his arms crossed. "I came here because I was concerned!"

"For your self," he yelled. "For your reputation. That's what this is all about isn't it?"

"No!" she said.

"No?" he said. "Then why are we hiding? Let's go right now, let's go tell everyone."

"My personal life isn't for public consumption," she said.

"Your life or our life?" he said. "You were scared not because you thought B'Elanna would be angry, but because you think she's going to tell everyone."

"Tom…"

"Tell me the truth."

"I'm the Captain, Tom. I don't get to keep a lot of things to myself."

"That's bullshit," he said. "Do you think I would ever know you as well as I do if I hadn't been able to hear your thoughts? Do you think you would have ever opened up to me? Do you think you'll ever open up to me again?"

"I told you all about Mark," she said. "I don't hear you telling your secrets!"

"It's been a month!" he said. "Things take time."

"So you get time but I don't?" she accused. He sighed, threw up his hands, and turned away. "I get it," she said and pulled off his shirt that she'd been wearing. She was wearing a tank top underneath, something she wouldn't ordinarily wear out in public but she'd make an exception now. She balled up the shirt and threw it on the floor. "I think I will sleep in my own quarters tonight."

"Fine!" he said.

"Fine," she yelled and stormed out.

oooo

Kathryn was still in bed when she heard her door chime. She ignored it – she'd rearranged her schedule with Chakotay and had refused to answer any questions. It was Captain's prerogative and if she wanted to use the whole morning and most of the afternoon to mope in bed feeling sorry for her self, then she would. The door chimed again.

She closed her eyes tight and waited for it to go away.

Her door chimed.

"Come in," she whispered, sitting up. It was either Chakotay or Tom. There was a slight possibility that it was Tuvok but she doubted it. No one else would be brave or stupid enough to disturb her at home. She managed to sit up, but she couldn't bother to stand or make herself presentable for whoever it was that would walk through the door.

"Captain?"

It was B'Elanna and Janeway could admit she did not expect that. She wiped at her face, trying to eliminate any trace of moisture before B'Elanna could notice it but it was too late. The anger drained quickly from B'Elanna's features and turned quickly to concern.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine, Lieutenant," she said, standing. "Did you need something?"

"I just wanted to… are you sure? Do you want to… talk about it?" B'Elanna asked.

"I'm sure you really want to talk about my problems with me," Janeway said, sinking back down to the mattress. "Why don't you just say what you came to say? I deserve it."

"May I?" B'Elanna said, motioning to the bed. She didn't say no, so B'Elanna sat next to her. "Captain, I want to be mad at you. I mean I really want to. But the truth is, it's Tom I'm mad at, not you."

"I understand that," Janeway said. "I'm pretty mad at him too."

"I can see that," B'Elanna said. "The truth is, Tom and I were never going to work. We fought all the time. We weren't honest with each other. I think, though it pains me to say it, that you are a much better match for him."

"I'm not so sure," Janeway said, her voice low.

"Captain?"

"We had a fight," she said, feeling the burn of tears behind her eyes once more. She forced the feeling away – she would not cry now. "I'm not sure I have what it takes to…"

She sighed and shook her head.

"B'Elanna, I'm so sorry about what happened. I never meant to hurt you."

"Apology accepted," B'Elanna said. "I know how he can be. He worms his way into your heart. Like a parasite."

Janeway let out a dry chuckle. "Something like that," she confirmed.

"Tom is used to fighting," B'Elanna said. "A learned behavior from me no doubt."

"No doubt," Janeway agreed. B'Elanna frowned but there was no real venom behind the expression.

"I find fighting fun," B'Elanna sniffed. "But if you don't, you might want to say something."

"Maybe I should," Janeway sighed. "Is there anything I can do for you, B'Elanna?"

"No," she said. "Just… don't take this the wrong way, okay?"

"Okay," Janeway said, warily.

"Don't be nice to me," B'Elanna said. "Be my Captain. Be supportive, be direct. Order me around and expect the impossible but don't be nice because you feel guilty."

"Now that, I can do," Janeway promised. "Business as usual?"

"Yes Ma'am," she said.

"In that case, you're dismissed," Janeway said. "I'm not quite done feeling sorry for myself."

"You're not going to talk to him?" B'Elanna asked.

"I will, just not... today," Janeway said.

oooo

The bridge shift was awkward. Tom faced forward, his head bowed to his console. She wanted to slink away to her ready room but she refused to do so. She would not be chased off of her own bridge by a lover's quarrel.

At the end of the shift, she dismissed the crew but stayed in her seat. Tom glanced at her as he walked to the turbolift but didn't say anything and neither did she. It was her prerogative to follow him but it was also her choice to stay in her chair and make the next round of officers nervous by staring over their shoulders. Chakotay raised his eyebrow at her but knew better than to say anything.

But he couldn't hold his tongue forever.

"Is this going to be one of those 24-hour shifts that you're so good at?" he asked.

"Why do you feel the need to comment on my every action?" she snapped, tapping at the panel between their seats slightly harder than necessary.

"Would you prefer I just come out and say that I think you should go home?" he asked.

"I'd prefer if you said nothing at all," she said, tersely.

"That would make me a pretty poor first officer," Chakotay said, not letting her foul mood bring him down. "Personnel is my job and that, unfortunately, includes you."

"I'm fine," she said.

"I can tell," he said, turning back to the view screen and the stars streaking past.

"I do have a lot of work," she said, defensively.

"You and I both," he said, amiably. "You know where I like to work?"

"Hmm?"

"My quarters, after a warm meal," he said. She glared at him.

"Are you going to keep this up until I leave?" she asked.

"Seems likely," he said.

"You're a mean person, you know that?" she said, standing.

"So they tell me," he chuckled.

She left the bridge, throwing dirty looks at him until they were separated by the turbolift doors. She decided to go to the mess hall and eat something. The place wasn't busy – it was an off hour so she ate from her tray alone and decided that she would work from her quarters.

When she stepped inside, she saw they were empty. Of course they were empty, she scolded herself, but a small part of her had hoped that Tom would be waiting for her, willing to talk things out. But, she was the one who had stormed out. Perhaps she should be the one to make-up?

"Computer, locate Tom Paris," she said.

"Tom Paris is in his quarters," the computer responded dutifully.

"Janeway to Paris," she said.

"Paris here, Captain," he said. She winced at the formality of her title.

"I deserved that," she said. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," he said, his voice softening only slightly. "I'm on my way."

It seemed to take forever for him to actually arrive. Maybe he was punishing her, making her wait. She paced a groove into her carpet, too agitated to order anything from the replicator or to sit down. She felt sick to her stomach knowing that things were not right between Tom and herself and she wished, momentarily, that the implants were back. That their floodgate of communication was open and that they both simply understood like the had at the start.

When the door finally chimed, she was too nervous to do anything but open the door and let him in. He stared at her and she at him for a few seconds.

"Kathryn, if you…"

"I'm _sorry_," she blurted, cutting him off. "And I don't really say that very often, so will you please, please just take it at face value and forgive me for being stubborn and selfish?"

"Yes," he said.

"I worked it out with B'Elanna," she promised. "Well, actually, B'Elanna worked it out with me."

"I said I forgive you," he said.

"And I really don't think she's mad at you despite what she said…"

"_Kathryn_," he said, loudly.

"What?" she said.

"You're rambling," he said.

"Sorry," she said.

"Look," he said. He grabbed her shoulders and steered them both into a seat. "We're going to fight."

"Right now?" she asked.

"I mean, in general. Part of living with a partner is fighting. It's human nature," he explained. "And I expect seeing you storming out is going to be a normal part of my life."

"I see," she said.

"But we're going to make up after," he promised.

"You seem confident about that."

"I am," he said. "I don't want to be with someone who agrees with me all the time. That's boring, you know?"

She did understand what he meant. She smiled, relieved and stuck out her hand for a handshake.

"Friends?" she said. He took her hand and pulled her to him. His arms came around her and she relaxed into the embrace. "I'm not ashamed of you, Tom."

"I know," he said. "Besides, I sort of think everyone knows already."

She pulled back and searched his face.

"Why?" she said. "No wait… let me guess. Harry Kim?"

"Harry 'read me like a book' Kim," Tom said, with a smile. "Those Delaney twins can be very persuasive and catching you off-guard threw him off his game."

"Megan and Jenny," Janeway said, shaking her head ruefully. "I almost split them up, you know."

"What?" he gasped.

"Twins who work in the same department? Who've never had an assignment apart? I thought it was high time they learned to live separate lives," she said.

"What changed your mind?" he asked.

"Commander Cavit, actually," Janeway said, softly. It was taboo to talk about those who'd died on the bumpy ride to the Delta Quadrant; it just wasn't done. The wound would always be fresh to Janeway. "He had twin boys." She looked out the window. "Oliver and Caleb."

"I can't imagine Jenny or Megan without the other," Tom said, trying to bring her back to the present.

"They sure do help your gambling ring," she said, smirking.

"Don't call it a gambling ring, you make me sound seedy!" he complained.

"You _are_ seedy," she accused. "And what would you have me call it?"

"My extracurricular rations activities?" he offered.

"I don't think so," she said. "Just make sure you never run anything from these quarters, Mister."

"Nothing that you know about," he promised, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her into his lap.

Later, after they had truly made up, they were sprawled across her bed. She was dozing, pretending like she wasn't really tired enough to fall asleep but he knew better. He pulled the blankets over her and reached across her to turn the lights down.

"I'm awake," she murmured, batting his arm away from the panel.

"You could've fooled me," he said. She rolled over, nuzzling herself into his side. He never expected her to be so affectionate. He should have, he realized. She'd never been stingy with physical touch. She always reached out a hand in a time of need, but this version of Kathryn was almost clingy. She liked the weight of an arm or a leg over her.

"I am," she said, her eyes closed and brow relaxed.

"Hey," he said. "You know that we don't have anything to prove, right?"

This snagged her attention and he saw her claw her way back to full consciousness. She sat up a little and looked at him.

"What in the world do you mean by that statement?" she asked.

"I just mean… what I had with B'Elanna wasn't the kind of relationship I want."

"I'm not B'Elanna," she said, peevishly.

"Not what I meant," he said, holding up a hand in surrender. "With her, it was always fights in the hallways, in the mess hall. We were always bickering, always needling each other. I can't tell you how many fights we picked just for the sake of it. Everything always had to be this enormous gesture to mean anything. It was, frankly, exhausting."

"Sounds like," she said. She sensed the danger was over and put her head back onto his shoulder.

"My mother told me that falling in love was supposed to be exhilarating, like going on an adventure," he said. "But exhilarating and exhausting aren't the same thing."

"Nope," she said. "Though you're kind of making me feel like a bore."

"You aren't boring," he assured her. "I don't think anyone on this ship would dare call you boring."

"Well, I do try."

"I think we're better, though. Our romance is like… two shuttles on the same flight path. Instead of waiting to pass, we just found a way to fly a parallel course," Tom explained. She kissed his neck.

"That's a sweet way to put it," she said. "I think so too."

oooo

"Where are you going?" Tom mumbled, trying to pull her back into bed.

"I have a date in the holodeck," Janeway said, batting his hand away.

"With who?" he demanded. She pushed her hair out of her face and put her hands on her hips.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she teased.

"It'd better not be Chakotay," Tom huffed. "Sure he's supportive on the surface, but I'm almost certain he's plotting to steal you away."

"I'm positive he is," she agreed. Tom blanched. "Oh, give me some credit."

"You know, my people have ancient legends too," he said.

"You're French and Irish," she said. "I already know your ancient legends. Most of them take place at a pub."

"You're Irish, too," he said.

"That's how I know," she laughed, walking into the bathroom. He heard the sonic shower activate. He grumbled and crawled out of the bed. He walked into the bathroom. "Sure, come on in," she said, dryly but made no move to actually cover herself.

"You are really going to the holodeck?" he asked.

"I really am," she said. "For your information, I have a Velocity date with Seven of Nine."

"We could play doubles," Tom said. "I bet Harry would volunteer to be on Seven's team."

"That's a good idea," Janeway said, pulling a red exercise tunic over hear head. "But not today. The last thing Seven needs is me springing even more social interaction on her."

"A fair point," Tom conceded. "But you'd be willing to do stuff with other people?"

"Yes," she said, sternly. "Of course, Tom."

"Good," he said.

She was worried about his tone, slightly, but didn't have time to wait around and see what it meant. Seven was already in the holodeck, waiting for her. Not one for small talk, they got right into the first set. Janeway felt slightly distracted and the game got away from her.

"Winner, Seven of Nine," the Computer declared.

"Good game," Janeway said, amiably.

"You allowed me to win," Seven accused. "You were distracted."

"Seven, do you see anyone else, socially?" Janeway asked.

"I see the Doctor for my maintenance and social lessons," Seven said. Janeway tossed her a towel and took one for her self.

"Who else?"

"Neelix serves me in the mess hall when I require solid nutrients," she said.

"So, no," Janeway answered for her. "I think it would be good for you to spend more social time with more members of the crew."

"I am not yet comfortable interacting with people I do not know well," Seven said.

"What about the people you do know well? The senior staff?" Janeway prodded.

"Perhaps," Seven said though she didn't sound convinced.

"Tomorrow, same time, we'll play doubles," Janeway declared. "Computer, start play."

She didn't give Seven time to refuse.

oooo

After word got out that Tom and Janeway were making social appearances together, the invitations started coming in. Chakotay was in charge of organizing the opening ceremony for Astrometrics and Janeway was certain it wasn't a mistake that the invitation that appeared in her in-box was addressed to herself as well as one Lieutenant Tom Paris. The Prixin invitation came next, also addressed to the both of them. A few days later, an invite to a holo-slideshow from the Doctor.

"And you were worried the crew wouldn't accept us," Tom teased her, leaning over her shoulder and staring at the screen.

"Guess that's over," Janeway said.

Harry was the first one to extend an actual, oral invitation. Janeway was in Tom's quarters when Harry stopped by. She was in his bed, plowing through a stack of reports. He was at the desk, working on a report for her that was due in the morning. They had long ago deducted that working in the same room was not at all efficient.

When the door chimed, she ignored it. It wasn't her quarters and therefore not her responsibility to answer the door. She heard Tom call for entrance and then Harry's voice.

"Come on, let's go get dinner," Harry said.

"I can't, I have to finish this," Tom said.

"You can spare an hour to eat," Harry argued. "Come on!"

"I really can't, it's for the Captain," Tom said. Janeway smirked. The Captain was always the best excuse – she'd used it herself as a lower ranking officer.

"Oh, I'm sure you'd really take the brunt of her wrath if your report was late," Harry said, sarcastically. "If anyone can afford to slack off, it's you."

"Harry, I really wouldn't…" Tom tried to say.

"What? You're the ultimate Captain's pet. What could you possibly say to refute that?" Harry said. Janeway knew a cue when she heard one.

"Ensign Kim?" she called through her smile. "Could you step in here please?"

There was a very silent, very long pause before Harry walked into the bedroom, his head already hung in shame.

"Captain, I really…"

"Didn't know I was here, I gathered," she said, sitting up, tossing the PADD aside. "Do you really think I cut Lieutenant Paris more slack than anyone else?"

"No, Ma'am," Harry said.

"What do you have to say for yourself then?" Janeway asked, her voice stern even though her posture was not. Harry looked around, stalling for time while he thought of what might offend the Captain the least.

"You want to get something to eat?" Harry said, finally. Janeway smiled, and then it turned into laugh.

"Yeah," she said, standing up. "I think we can spare an hour."

"Really?" Tom said, appearing.

"Unless you don't think you can finish your report in the next eight hours," Janeway said, challengingly.

"Bring it on, woman," Tom said, slipping on his uniform jacket. Janeway smiled and winked at Harry as she passed. Harry finally caught up to them in the corridor.

"I don't know what you did," Harry said to Tom. "But I like it."

"Me too," Tom said.

"Me three," Janeway said, stepping onto the turbolift. "Computer, Deck Two."

oooo

Prixin was always a lively event. Neelix had spent weeks preparing aging the nectar and designing the decorations for the mess hall – and talking everyone's ear off about his excitement over the holiday. Janeway and Tom had arrived together and that fact alone had kept the conversation buzzing for at least an hour even though they'd parted ways as soon as they'd spotted their friends. Tom was over by the kitchen with Harry and the twins plotting the best way to spike the nectar even more and Janeway was holding court with Chakotay and Seven, listening to the Doctor tell a story. From her glazed expression, Tom could see he wasn't missing much.

Janeway noticed him watching her and smiled softly at him. He smiled back and nodded his greeting. She tilted her head, a gesture he understood as her way of asking if he was doing all right. He nodded and then glanced over at the food table. She nodded once and glanced at the Doctor, letting Tom know that she needed a minute to extricate herself from the group she was with.

"And then I decided, you know what? Joining a Kazon sect is probably a pretty wise career choice so I requisitioned a shuttle and I'm heading out tomorrow," Jenny said, sipping her drink.

"That sounds fun," Tom said. "If you'll excuse me…"

"Just go," Megan said, laughing. "He's not exactly a captive audience, is he Jen?"

"Not exactly," Jenny said, watching Tom cross the room to meet the Captain.

"Hi," he said.

"Hello," she replied. They stood by the food table but neither made a move to fix a plate.

"Having fun?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. "Yourself?"

"I'm having a great time," Tom said. "The nectar is good this year."

"Yes," Janeway said. "Tastes like you helped improve it."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Tom said.

"I'm sure you don't," she said. They looked at each other for a moment, listening to the sounds of the party around them – conversation, music, and laughter.

"You want to get out of here?" he asked, dropping his voice.

"I thought you'd never ask," she said.

"Come on," Tom said, grabbing her elbow.

Harry watched them walk out the door. As soon as they were gone, the room erupted in conversation on their departure. Harry stepped up onto a chair and cleared his throat, pulling a PADD out of his pocket.

"All right, everyone," he said. "Who had two hours and fifteen minutes?"

"Harry!" Ayala said, sounding shocked. "What happened to taking the high road?"

"That was then," Harry said, grinning. "This is now and rations are rations. Now! Who had two hours and fifteen minutes?"

"That would be me," Chakotay said, stepping out from the crowd. Harry looked confused.

"You entered?" Harry asked.

"And won," Chakotay said, reaching out his hand. Harry reluctantly handed the PADD over. "Listen up everyone, because I'm only going to say this once. I don't want you betting on the Captain anymore. It's conduct unbecoming to any officer, let alone all of them."

There was a murmur of apology.

"Are you going to tell the Captain?" Harry asked, stepping down from the chair.

"And give up my rations? I don't think so," Chakotay said with a grin.

"What would have happened if you didn't win?" Harry asked.

"Luckily, I know the Captain pretty well," Chakotay said. "I was always going to win, Harry."

Almost always, Chakotay thought but kept it to himself.

oooo

"Do you think our exit was too conspicuous?" Janeway asked, her head on Tom's chest. They were in bed and she was fighting to stay awake. He stroked her hair and held her close, drowsy himself.

"I'm sure nobody noticed a thing," he said, dropping a kiss on her head. She sighed, snuggling closer into his embrace. Together, they drifted off to sleep.

The End


End file.
